The King and The Baker
by ohjaayox
Summary: (Set after the Battle of Five Armies) Dwarves flock back to Erebor in full force, excited about their new home. Thorin Oakenshield was King Under the Mountain and although he'd never planned to take a wife many eager, haughty Dwarrowdams pursued him anyway. But then there was Ora, a mellow minded Dwarrowdam and a simple baker who seemed to have a knack for causing trouble.
1. Chapter 1

"Have you even seen him yet?"

"Nope, I can never see around these Dwarrowdam's mighty bottoms."

Ora bit her tongue to stifle a snort, but the noise slipped out anyway when one of the haughty looking Noble Ladies shot Ava a sour look. The two friends quickly continued on their way, hand in hand in attempt not to get lost or separated while they pushed and shoved their way through the thick crowd of Dwarrowdams. They were trying to get to the markets, but a thick mob of high-maintenance looking females had congregated outside the Kings Hall, obviously waiting for him to emerge in a desperate attempt to get the King to notice them.

"I feel a little sorry for him actually." Ava continued once she was finally free of the crowd and letting go of Ora's hand.

"Help!" Ora cried out through a laugh, reaching back out towards her friend as the rabble of woman tightened, unfortunately getting sucked in with them.

Ava laughed and tugged once more on her friends arm. Ora came flying out of the mass of Dwarves, stumbling slightly as she tried to recompose.

"Well, that was fun." Ora huffed sarcastically, brushing herself down and quickly fixing her hair as they walked away from the Kings hall.

Ava snickered, "But imagine _that_ following you around every moment of the day." By _that_ she meant the gaggle of females.

"I think I'd go insane- oh, for the love of Mahal, one of those crows scratched me." Ora nursed a pathetic scratch on her arm.

"Oh! That reminds me, I need to buy some carrots."

Ora stared at her friend for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. "How did my scratch remind you of carrots? You hate carrots."

"What scratch?"

Ora rolled her eyes and shoved Ava playfully as they began to descend the first of many flights of stairs. Ora had been in Erebor for a little over a month now, and Ava a few weeks longer, but even after that time they still had a hard time navigating their way around the endless tunnels and corridors leading down to the market. Mainly because they would always come across a new path which of course they'd have to explore.

"Are we training this afternoon?" Ava asked as they turned a corner. The noise of the market bubbled up from an opening ahead of them.

"Can do." Ora replied absentmindedly. They reached the end of the enclosed corridor and the straight path fell away, bending of to the left and right to hug the stone walls. Before them the mountain opened up to become the market that spanned over six levels, all open with every shop and stall dug into the rock itself with many corridors trailing off back into the mountain, similar to the one they'd just emerged from.

The pair began their descent again, following the main path that wrapped around the outside of the market, leading them steadily spiralling downwards and towards the ground floor. However, on the fourth level they took a right, following a stone walk way that stretched over the empty space in-between the levels and providing a short cut to the other side of the market.

This is where they bid their goodbyes, Ava turning left to continue down a level, and Ora turning right towards her Grandmothers stall. It was lunch time, so of course the market was buzzing with hungry Dwarves, all expertly navigating themselves around the stone paths of the market. Ora slalomed around the bodies, dodging an especially dirty looking minor as she neared the stall.

"There you are, Ora. For the love of Mahal I was getting worried."

From out of the shop doorway came a small, elderly Dwarrowdam. Her white hair shone like fresh snow and the few whips of a beard clung to her chin like roots. She was skilfully balancing a plate piled with the fresh honey buns Ora had put in the oven just before she'd left for lunch.

Ora smiled at her Grandmother as she drew closer, "I'm not late G'ma, I made sure."

The blue eyed elderly woman scoffed, "Leaving me here all on my own to deal with the lunch rush!"

"I believe it has just started." Ora snickered, brushing past her Grandmother and reaching for her apron that hung on a hook by the door, "and besides, I made plenty before I left." She then turned back and swooped in, taking the buns from her Grandmother and setting them out on the stool for her.

Once finished Ora wiped her hands on her apron before retreating back into the safety of the shop, smiling at her grandmother as she passed her, who was still huffing and puffing.

"Anyway, I was only late because we got mobbed." Ora called out to her grandmother from the shallow shop innards. Carved out of the mountain behind the front of the stand was a small, but well equipped kitchen. It needed some repair, having not been used for the entire duration of Smaug's presence in the mountain, but it was clean, and worked well enough. She set out preparing a new round of custard tarts.

"Mobbed?" Replied Poe- Ora's grandmother- from front of shop, where she always was. Ora was the baker, and Poe was the pretty face- or so she liked to call herself. Ora had learnt everything she knew about baking from her grandfathers recipe books, Poe was a horrendous cook, even when she followed instructions whatever she made turned black. But Ora's grandfather had died before Smaug attacked. Ora's grandparents had always run this stall, but now Ora was taking her grandfathers place. She had inherited his skill, but hopefully not his vast belly.

"Ay. There's a gaggle of crows loitering around the King's hall."

"What that sharp tongue of yours, girl. You might cut yourself with it. And what the Ladies of the Court do is none of your business."

She was right, Ora knew she was. But everyone knew Prince Fili was King Thorin's heir, yet those Dwarrowdam's persistently pestered the King. He'd done so much for all of them, and Ora was sure he deserved some peace and quiet. But then again, if he wanted to he could easily tell them to leave, after all he was their King.

Ora shrugged, coming to the conclusion that he may in fact enjoy constant female attention. Which wasn't unlikely.

"Are those scones ready yet, Ora?" Poe called from front of shop and instantly Ora's train of thought derailed.

"Yes!" Ora replied quickly, abandoning her pastry making and grabbing a nearby plate, loading it up with the scones from the hot stone before handing it to her grandmother who was already waiting patiently in the door frame.

"And we're running low on honey buns."

"Already? We just put them out."

"It's a busy lunch, dear." Poe smiled before disappearing out the door. Leaving Ora to fend for herself in the kitchen.

The rest of lunch whizzed by, but of course time always speeds away when you need it the most. Ora was kept on her toes baking, whirling around the small kitchen like a flour covered tornado. Before she knew it the lunch time rush was over and she was just finishing cleaning up. Usually after lunch she was able to leave as long as all the cakes and pastries were stocked up to last the rest of the day. Lunch was of course the busiest time of day, business consisted of hungry miners and tinkers buying up half a dozen sweet bakes at a time, but once that time was over business calmed and Ora was no longer needed to provide a constant flowing supply of baked goods.

After pushing the last clean bowl onto the shelf in its rightful place, Ora grabbed her bag from the floor by the door where she'd left it when she'd arrived that morning, and pulled out a loose, white training shirt and brown, cotton breeches. She pulled the new attire on, carefully folding her day dress up and gently placing it back in her bag, cautious not to crease it or else her mother would have her guts for garters. She then pulled a pair of long socks from the side pocket of her bag and kicked off her fur lined ankle boots.

Just as she was pulling up her final sock Ava came bowling into the kitchen, a honey bun in one hand and a cherry tart in the other.

"Afffrr oon!" The brunette sprayed bun all over the floor as she greeted Ora.

"Urgh! Do you mind? I've just mopped." Ora stood, pulling her boots back on. "Are you ready?"

Ava nodded violently, only pausing to take another stupendously large bite of the bun.

"I'll see you tomorrow g'ma." Ora bid her grandmother goodbye as she left the shop, she paused momentarily to place a light kiss on the tiny woman's head.

Poe merely waved Ora away, too engrossed in conversation with another Dwarf with equally white hair and a matching long, thick beard, which forked out at the bottom.

Ora didn't know this Dwarf, so she simply offered him a friendly smile before departing. Trailing behind Ava as they made their way back up to the higher levels where the training yard was. The yard was located between the ground floor and the market, still deep enough underground but not so deep that the Nobles had to travel too far to use it.

Both Ora and Ava were middle classed, respectable and relatively well known in these parts of the mountain. Ora came from a highly regarded background, her father used to be (and still is in Ora's eyes) a fierce warrior, he fought with honour at the Battle of Azanulbizar alongside Thror and while Ora and her family were wandering he fought to protect them all. He was now busy training up Giora, Ora's older brother, to follow in his footsteps.

Ora used to fight, but she hasn't picked up a sword (other than to teach Ava) in nearly thirty years, not since the accident anyway. After that she refused to wield a weapon ever again, she was expertly good but gave it up in a heartbeat. Her father and eldest brother had trained her and Giora up whilst they were wandering and without a home, mainly out of necessity rather than choice. Wandering in the Wild is not for the faint hearted, and while they were homeless and sleeping in whatever shelter they found they had to protect themselves.

But now she would just watch and tell Ava what to do. Ava was five years older than Ora, and the complete opposite. She had not grown up in a warrior household and instead her father had been a miner and her mother a maid. Her father had perished in Smaug's attack, having been trapped in the mines, and her mother only just escaped. Ava now sought vengeance in the form of slaying her enemies.

Ava popped the last piece of pastry into her mouth just as they entered the training yard, brushing her hands together to get rid of the evidence.

"Sister dearest!"

A deep voice to Ora's right bellowed as soon as she stepped over the threshold of the yard. She snapped her head towards the voice just in time to be ploughed into by the mop of dirty blonde hair that was her brother, Giora.

"Mahal, save me!" She cried as she was bowled clean over, falling into the sand, dust and dirt that covered the yards floor. It was supposed to cushion the landing... _supposed_ to. "Giora, get off!"

Giora let out his roar of a laughter and jumped up, extending his large hand out to his little sister who bitterly ignored it and pulled herself up, brushing herself off as she did so.

"Don't you have better things to do than knock over your little sister?" Ora scowled, folding her arms over her chest and glaring up at her brother. Giora grinned cheekily down her, his thick, bushy blonde beard and mass of wild matching hair a total mess on and around his head. His bright blue eyes sparkled from under his thick eyebrows.

"Oh course not!" His booming voice travelled to either end of the yard. "What sort of brother would I be if I didn't take time out of my day to express my love for my little sister?"

Ora just grumbled inaudibly under her breath in response.

"Oh, sister dearest, you're a total state."

Before Ora could even move Giora had licked him thumb and smeared his spit across her left cheek.

"Giora!" She shrieked, jumping away from him and vigorously rubbing her cheek in an attempt to remove his germs.

Giora just rolled his head back and roared with laughter once more, his thick chest bouncing with every noise. He then turned away, still laughing and looking far too pleased with himself.

"Uck!" Ora wrenched.

"You do actually have a little bit of flour there." Ava reached up to try and rub Ora's cheek also, but the latter swotted her hand away grumpily and stomped away towards a free ring.

The training yard was more or less a large, bare stadium. In fact, large was an understatement. It was humungous. It was a rectangular shape and surrounded by tiers and tiers of stone benches, this was for when there was a festival or an event on as usually the entirety of Erebor would want to watch. But at the moment the stands were more or less empty, only a few onlookers sat scattered around but usually they weren't truly paying attention.

The floor was covered in the outlines of circles, which indicated each individual ring for Dwarves to practice their skills in. When there was an event these rings were wiped out and replaced by one large ring in the centre of the arena.

On the far left hand wall sat row upon row of weapons, although these were hardly touched. Nearly every Dwarf who came here brought their own weapon. Ora's weapon of choice was an axe, but she'd must rather prefer hand to hand combat. She was fast and small, nimble on her feet and could throw a vicious punch. However, Ava was not so good.

"Come on, like this Ava, like this." Ora tried again, demonstrating how to kick a sword out of an enemies hand by leaning back, ducking, sliding, and then raising her leg fast enough to gain enough momentum to kick to opponents elbow when they're in mid swing. Poor Eri (a young Dwarf Ava and Ora had grabbed from one of the stands) stood there shaking as Ora's foot collided gently with his elbow. Obviously she was doing it in slow motion to demonstrate, but every time Eri panicked and dropped the sword he was awkwardly holding with a squeak.

Ava sighed dramatically, "I can't do it! I'm so bad at this. Can't we do something else?"

"No." Ora replied, reaching to pick up the sword Eri had dropped. "You're the one who signed yourself up for the trio event." Ora was referring to the Bulûr Maldarâm, an annual event where Dwarves and Dwarrowdams get the chance to show off their skills to everyone. There are a number of events, and for some reason Ava had sighed herself up to the trio event which was sparring, knife throwing and hand to hand combat. The latter was not a skill Ava had yet wielded, this gave Ora until the fourth week of winter to get her to competing standards.

"But it's _hand_ to _hand_ combat, " Ava whined, despite being a young adult, "I won't need to know how to kick a sword out of some ones hand."

"And what about in battle? What about when you're in the middle of a brawl and your sword slips from your grasp and the enemy is gaining ground? What then?"

Ava sighed, knowing this was venturing onto sensitive grounds. "I'm sorry." She mumble, taking her stance once again.

.

.

.

"It's freezing out here!" Marg exclaimed through chattered teeth, her chocolate brown hair blowing around her face as it came loose from its perfect, intricate braids. She descended the steps of Erebor, arms wrapped around her tightly for warmth and with Ava in tow.

"Look at all the snow!" Ava exclaimed, jumping down the last few steps and hurrying off towards Ora and Uli, where the two friends were happily building a snowman, until Ava ploughed straight threw it.

"Ava!" Uli scolded, smacking the brunette around the back of the head.

"Do we have to be out here?" Marg complained, shuffling towards the three friends, and looking less than please about the weather.

"It's the first snow of winter," Ora replied, using her mitten covered hands to start rebuilding the snowman. "So yes."

Marg huffed and plopped down in the snow next to Ava who was already starting on a snow angel.

"Is Giora around?" She suddenly asked.

"You're infatuation with my brother is weird." Ora's face shrivelled at the thought.

"I don't have an _infatuation_ with him." Marg scoffed defensively.

"No, she's in _love_ with him." Ava mocked in a gooey voice.

"Think of that," Ora began, scrambling to her feet and making her way to were Marg sat cross armed in the snow, "we could be sister-in-laws!" As soon as the words left her lips she shoved some snow that she'd been hiding behind her back down the back of Marg's dress, causing the chocolate haired Dwarrowdam to scream as the icy cold snow touched her bare skin.

"Ora!" She screeched, jumping to her feet and chasing after the howling blonde. The pursuit was short lived however, being cut short by a loud, ear piercing scream. The sort of scream that made your blood run cold and your heart stop beating.

The four Dwarrowdams shared a look before a scene that was unfolding on the partially frozen lake caught their attention.

A small group was congregating on the ice, and a female, maybe thirty years Ora's senior stood looking down into the ice, screaming and crying at the top of her lungs. Behind her were two men, trying to drag her away from the hole in the ice as she tried desperately to reach it.

"A little Dwarfling's fallen in!" Someone shouted, "He's fallen through the ice!"

If Ora's blood was cold before, it had turned to ice now.

"Ora, no! Don't!" Ava scream, jumping to her feet and racing after Ora who had started running towards the ice, "Ora!"

But it was too late, Ora shed her thick fur coat and kicked her boots off, sliding onto the ice at top speed. She completely ignored Ava at her heels, she completely ignored the cries of her kin as she jumped through the break in the ice and into the water beneath it.

The water knocked the air out her lungs in an instant, and instantly her head felt like it had exploded. The water was beyond freezing, it felt like she'd been punched in the gut and for a moment she was paralysed. But then she remembered, through the icy, murky water was a silhouette, an object sinking deeper into the abyss.

Ora didn't think, she just acted. Kicking her bare feet into movement she pushed away from the ice. She struggled against the water, against the temperature so cold she thought her heart was going to cave in there and then. But it didn't, it kept pumping, it kept racing, and working off adrenaline alone Ora neared the little boy. She grabbed hold of his tiny hand, trying to ignore the fact that his skin was as cold as the water that surrounded him. His eyes were open, but he was unseeing and his mouth slightly ajar. Ora hoped for the best and pulled him towards her, wrapping one arm around him before kicking back towards the surface.

But this little boy was just like many Dwarflings and he was chubby, and Ora found herself struggling with his weight. She needed to breathe, her lungs on the verge of exploding and her body on the brink of an involuntary inhale.

She quickly pulled off his heavy boots and coat. The loss of this extra weight was just enough for her to scramble through the water and reach the surface. The hole in the ice was obvious, through Ora's blurry vision she followed the bright light that seeped through the gap and the splashing of hands in the water to guide her.

She broke the surface with a painful gasp. Within seconds, multiple hands grabbed at her and the boy still in her arms, pulling them apart and out onto the ice. Instantly Ora was wrapped in multiple coats and blankets by a number of Dwarves and pulled away. She was delirious, as if stuck in some sort of bubble of pain. She watched helplessly as she was escorted away from the little boy on the other side of the ice. All she could see were his two feet poking out the bottom of a huddle of Dwarves that immediately surrounded him and enclose him. His mother was still weeping, her cries echoing through Ora's throbbing brain.

Ora was led straight back into the warm walls of Erebor. As soon as she entered the mountain the heat hit her much like the icy water had, punching her straight in the gut and causing her to double over, spluttering and gasping.

"What's going on?" Came a deep, velvety voice that Ora did not recognise. "What's all this commotion?"

Ava was instantly at Ora's side then, taking over from an unknown burly Dwarf and ready to catch and support her weak friend.

"A little boy fell through the ice, my King. This young lady jumped in after him."

Ora's head was swimming. She could not breathe, she couldn't talk and she couldn't see. Her lungs were on fire and her legs ached terribly. Her head was bowed and her blonde hair hid her face like a soaking wet curtain. She began to shiver violently.

"Quickly, take her to the healer." Came the deep voice again, and within an instant multiple hands were back on her. Uli and Ava on either side and Marg in front, shouting at various Dwarves that got in the way and creating a path for them.


	2. Chapter 2

Over the next few days Ora barely left her room, and when she did it was either to go bathe or get something to eat. Of course Ava, Uli and Marg visited often, but most of the time Ora was silent with them, too lost in her own thoughts to converse. Her sniffle had also developed into a cold, but by the fourth day she picked herself up, having had enough of feeling sorry for herself she left for work that morning. She was a Dwarrowdam after all, strong, tough, and stubborn, and she wasn't going to let her grief and sickness take over her life.

"What're you doing here?" Poe asked when she saw Ora marching towards the stall.

"I'm here to work." Came Ora's reply, she sniffed, but smiled at her grandmother sincerely.

"Are you fit to work? How are you feeling?"

As Ora entered the shop kitchen, Poe at her heels. "I feel much better, thank you."

"Are you sure? You still look a bit peaky." Despite Poe's short stature she still managed to reach up and grab Ora's face, pulling the younger Dwarrowdam down to her level.

"G'ma I'm fine!" Ora playfully swatted her grandmother away, "But thanks." She added sarcastically.

Poe watched her with a mixture of disapproval and concern, before finally grumbling in defeat and wandering back out to the front of shop.

The day flittered by surprisingly slowly for Ora, and it didn't take her long to realise she probably wasn't feeling as a hundred percent as she'd first thought. But nevertheless she kept her head down and working efficiently to prevail through the demanding time that was better known as the lunchtime rush.

Ora was just icing a chocolate bun when a tornado of curly brown hair came flying into the kitchen.

"Ora!" Ava exclaimed excitedly, already at Ora's side.

Ora simply raised her brow at the Dwarrowdam as if to say 'what do you want?'

"Dain Ironfoot is apparently arriving today for _Bulûr Maldarâm!"_

"So?"

"So! He is apparently so _dreamy_!" Ava swooned slightly, clutching her apron in her fists and swaying on the balls of her feet.

"I heard he keeps food in his beard." Ora deadpanned, smirking at the expression Ava pulling following her comment.

"Yuck. Really?"

"Apparently so."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with always having food to hand in my books," as if to make a point, Ava pulled a strawberry tart from the front pocket of her apron. One of the strawberry tarts Ora had just put out on the stall. "We're meeting at four o'clock on the West Hall balcony in anticipation."

"Is that the one in the King's Hall?"

"Yes, do you remember how to get to it?"

"Oh honey," Ora raised her arm to squeeze Ava's shoulder, "I found it." This was true, whilst exploring in her first week in Erebor she'd stumbled across a flight of steps hidden behind a tapestry, of course she'd instantly run to find Ava and the two immediately pursued the steps, discovering they opened out to a balcony that overlooked the King's hall. Whether or not they were supposed to go there was unknown, so until now they'd let it be.

Ava grinned broadly, "Great! Meet us there as soon as you finish!" And with that, the excitable little puppy vanished through the open door and into the crowded market.

Ora was left shaking her head, wondering how on Middle-Earth that girl was also deadly with a sword.

The rest of lunch came and went, and unfortunately Ora wasn't able to go immediately because they had run out of honey buns, so she stayed to put a fresh batch in the oven and whilst they were baking she quickly tided up, moping and cleaning hurriedly. Once finally finished, she more or less threw the plate of buns at her grandmother before scurrying away.

"What're you doing?" Ora approached Marg and Ava, the pair huddled together on the balcony overlooking the King's hall. They both turned as Ora approached, each of them grinning as widely as the last.

"Ora come, come!" Marg came running forward and grabbed Ora's hand, pulling her to stand between them. Ora was panting a little from more or less sprinting all the way from the stall to the King's Hall. She was still covered from head to toe in flour, having had a little accident whilst tidying up (she knocked over a bag of flour) and she had only just remembered to remove her apron as she rushed away.

"Are they here yet?" Ora asked before peering over the edge of the stone balcony. Neither of her friends had to answer, for she saw with her own eyes down into the Hall below. She almost gasped at the sheer beauty of the Hall, captivated by its intricate designs and expert craftsmanship.

"Oh Mahal, is that really the King?" Ora nearly squealed with excitement. She'd never seen King Thorin before, and there he was right before her eyes standing tall and proud with raven black hair with faint wisps of silver. He wore a heavy, thick fur lined coat and a dark blue tunic beneath, and beautifully made armour. Either side of his stood Prince Fili and Prince Kili, both of them looking equally bored as their uncle spoke quietly with Dain Ironfoot.

Standing a little way behind the Princes was two Dwarves Ora actually recognised. One was the small Dwarf her grandmother had been speaking with a mere few days ago, with the snow white hair and a long forked beard. The other stood tall, so tall he may be taller than five foot! His head was bald, but his jet black, wild beard more than fully made up for his lack of head hair. His head was covered in tattoos, and upon his face was a stony expression.

"Who are those two?" Ora asked, subtly pointing towards the pair.

Marg gave her a disbelieving look and scoffed her reply, "There are four extremely attractive Dwarves standing before you, and you're staring at _those_ two?"

Ora shrugged, "I recognise them."

"Sorry I'm late!" Came a breathy fourth voice. The three Dwarrowdams turned to find Uli emerging from the passage leading to the balcony, huffing and puffing and cradling a basket filled with art supplies on her right arm. "I got carried away painting in the Main Hall." She came up and squeezed her way in between Ava and Ora. "How're you feeling?" She asked Ora, propping her basket on the low stone wall that shielded the balcony and turning to Ora with a look of concern.

Ora smiled, "I feel much better actually."

Uli smiled also, "Good to hear it."

"I was so right about Lord Dain, he certainly is a dish." Announced Ava in her usually loud voice.

"What to say that any louder, Ava?" Hissed Marg, shooting Ava a dirty look.

Ora turned her attention back to the Hall, eyes travelling from Dwarf to Dwarf and absorbing the architecture like a sponge. She tried to take it all in, but was totally overwhelmed by the absolute splendour. It was like nothing she'd very seen before; the stone was polished within an inch of its life, and gold, silver and gems encrusted the walls and ornaments. King Thorin's throne stood solid and glorious in the centre, the back towering high with veins of gold bleeding through it.

"It's weird to think a Dragon was in here a mere few years ago." Uli stated, leaning around her basket to peer directly at the floor below them, where a gaggle of cackling female nobles swarmed.

Ava mimicked Uli, obviously wanting to see what she was looking at. But when she leant forward she didn't move around the paint filled basket and accidently knocked it with her shoulder.

"No!" She yelled, and instantly Ora reached forward in an attempt to grab it, slinging herself over the low wall and partially hanging over the edge. But it was too late, the basket fell and the four Dwarrowdams watched helplessly as the wicker basket fell to the stone floor with a crash, completely shattering and spraying art supplies everywhere. Including paint.

"Mahal save me." Ava whined as the other three Dwarrowdams stared at the scene below. Ora (who was still hanging over the wall) put her hand over her mouth as her eyes followed the paint splatters all over the gorgeous stone floor. She followed the bright red spray all the way to a pair of heavy, square toed boots. Trailing her eyes further she discovered the owner of the shoes, and muttered her own profanity when she locked eyes with King Thorin himself. He was staring right at a totally mortified looking Ora as she hung over the low wall. His once impeccable, rich coat was now stained with flecks of bright red paint, standing out like a sore thumb against the black fur.

Dain had also fallen victim to the paint, but he was too busy trying to wipe it off to share in Thorin's glaring.

"Run." Uli squeaked, grabbing Ora by the back of her dress and pulling her back over the wall. The four females fled the scene of the crime, and they didn't stop until they reached the hallway leading to the training yard.

It was then that Marg released her wrath upon Ava. "You foolish Dwarf! Your presence is an insult to Mahal! A troll has more brains than you do!"

Ava just stood there, looking totally, and utterly helpless as Marg continued to lay into her.

"You couldn't even forge a spoon!"

Ora burst into hysterical laughter then, and Uli began to giggle.

"You two think this is funny?!" Marg fumed, "My mother is going to kill me!"

Marg was a royal maid, and was technically by blood a Noble. But her father was the youngest of two brothers, so when his father died all their wealth went to Marg's uncle who just ate and drank the money away, leaving the rest of the family with nothing. She was actually originally from Ered Luin, but once Erebor was reclaimed her family came here searching for a new life.

Ora had only know her for a month, but already the trio of friends couldn't live without her. She was blunt, rude, and extremely stubborn. But she was also incredibly loyal, and undeniably hilarious, even if most of the time it was unintentional.

"I don't think King Thorin saw you, Marg." Uli giggled, "He was too busy glaring at Ora."

Ora choked on her own laugh, "Oh Mahal! He probably thought I pushed the basket off! Oh, Ava you fool!" She continued to laugh, although she wasn't remotely amused anymore. In fact she was terrified, but she didn't know what else to do so she laughed. "I'm going to have to move away, aren't I?"

"I'll start planning your funeral." Chimed Ava, looking far too happy about all this.

"Hey, if I'm going down you're coming down with me." Ora glared at her.

"Oh, Mahal."

Ora sighed, "I shouldn't worry too much, he doesn't know who I am, anyway."

"He might recognise those blonde locks of yours. I've noticed they're scarce of blondes in Erebor." Marg pointed out.

"Shave your head." Ava added.

"Recognise my hair from where? I've never seen the King before then." Ora said, putting her hands on her hips and waiting for one of the three to reply. But they didn't, instead they each pursed their lips and avoided eye contact. "What is it?"

"The other day, when you were pulled from the lake, we carried you into the Entrance Hall. King Thorin must have overseen what was happening outside because he was on his way out with his entourage-"

"Did he see me?" Ora interrupted.

"He might not of, you were soaking wet and your hair was covering your face." Uli piped up encouragingly. Ora groaned anyway, she wanted to say more, but a stomach churning voice cut her off.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here."

The unwelcome voice behind the four friends caused them to turn. Marg openly gagged at the Dwarrowdam who was swanning towards them with a smug smirk on her face. Her long, heavily jewelled dress swung briskly around her ankles and her deep mahogany coloured hair was pulled tightly back into a intricate design of braids that would put even Marg's hair to shame. This approaching Dwarrowdam was huge at just under five foot with matching width. She was strong, powerful, and a bully. Not to mention she was among the gaggle of females stalking King Thorin.

"Not now, Fragh." Ora said coolly, she could literally feel her friends steaming with hatred towards the Noble Dwarrowdam. Ora was usually the peace keeper of the group, having an uncharacteristically placid temper for a Dwarf.

"Why? Do you have other places to be? Do you have more King's to treason?" Fragh's voice oozed with delight, mocking the three lower class Dwarrowdems. Fragh the Foul they called her, because she was just that: Foul. She was spiteful, greedy, arrogant and not to mention just plain nasty. She abused her high status and made everyone below her suffer, she truly was a foul piece of work. Besides her height and width, she also looked like a pig with her large, round, bulbous nose that stuck up just like a snout. Her hair was always borderline greasy and whenever she ate she'd sweat. But unfortunately she was an incredible fighter, powerful and deadly.

"It wasn't treason." Ava blurted without thinking. Marg quickly pinched her arm to silence her.

"_It wasn't us_." Marg quickly countered, glowering at Fragh and bringing herself to her full height (she was still the shortest) and trying to appear intimidating by puffing out her chest.

"Oh, please!" Fragh spat (literally), "Everyone saw you."

"It was an accident." Ora said, her voice still calm.

"What would the King do if he found out who it was exactly that ruined his coat?" Fragh questioned rhetorically, talking a few more steps forward and tapping her chin dramatically, "Hmmm, I wonder. Banish you? Oh- he may even sentence you to death."

"That's a little extreme." Ora replied, narrowing her eyes, "I'm sure he'd understand. Accidents happen."

Fragh let out a 'pfft!' noise and continued, "I wouldn't be so sure, he was _furious_!"

Ora gulped and opened her mouth to say more but a booming voice cut her off.

"I'll show you furious if you don't move, you wench- fast!"

Giora came marching out the training yard, fists clenched at his sides and expression menacing.

Fragh's eyes bulged slightly at Ora's advancing big brother. She turned to leave but just before she did she added, "This isn't over. I'm going to tell the King exactly who you are." She shot them a final glare before turning on her stupid heal and marching off.

Ora let out a sigh of relief that she hadn't realised she was holding.

"You didn't need to do that, Ora." She sighed, turning towards her brother who was still glaring at Fragh's broad back.

"Someone needs to teach that hag a lesson."

"Watch that sharp tongue of yours, you might cut yourself with it." Ora blinked at her own words. She was turning into her grandmother.

Giora ignored her and turned to look at all four of them. "What was she on about anyway?"

"Nothing!" Ava squeaked from behind Uli.

Giora rolled his eyes and tried again, this time with Marg who was staring him with large, love filled eyes.

"Ava dropped paint on the King and he thinks Ora did it."

"Marg!" The other three shouted, abruptly pulling the maid from her stupor.

"What?!" Giora rolled his head back and roared with laughter, his deep, loud voice bouncing off the stone around them.

"Oh, for the love of Mahal would you stop?!" Ora hissed, smacking her brother in the chest.

"How did you manage that?!" He barked, eyes dancing with humour as he looked between Ora and a red faced Ava.

"Because Ava was dropped on her head at birth." Ora snapped, folding her arms over her chest and glaring at her friend who continued to smile sheepishly.

"Come now sister, King Thorin is a big boy now and he's had much worse things done to him than a little bit of paint falling on him. What exactly happened anyway?" He clapped a large hand on Ora's back and began leading her towards the training yard with Uli, Marg and Ava trailing behind.

Ora sighed again, "Uli rested her basket on the balcony wall and Ava accidently knocked it off."

"Sounds believable," He shot Ava an amused look. He'd known her for as long as Ora had, which was nearly a hundred years, so he knew her pretty well. "But that doesn't explain how you're to blame?"

Ora rubbed her head, ignoring the gritty texture of flour that still covered her, "I reached forward to catch it, it must have looked like I was the one who dropped it."

Phen looked thoughtful for a moment, leading the four Dwarrowdams through the large training yard doors and towards the stone steps that lead to the stadium seats.

"How did you drop it anyway? Where were you? And why wasn't I invited?" His eyes twinkled with mischief.

"We wanted to see Lord Dain, so we went to the King's Hall balcony."

"There's a balcony and you didn't tell me?" Giora looked mildly offended as he took a seat on one of the stone benches and motioned for the others to sit also.

"Well, I don't think we were supposed to be there."

"You _think_?" Giora hooted another laugh.

Ora smacked him once more and drew her attention elsewhere. "Where's pa?"

"Over there." Giora pointed to the far side of the arena. Ora followed his thick finger to where her father stood, his thick, bushy beard untamed as usual. He was talking to another Dwarf, a bald one with a jet black beard.

"Oh Mahal!" Ora promptly fell off her seat and hid behind the bench in front.

"What is it?" Ava asked, peering at the Dwarf also.

"That Dwarf was in the King's Hall with King Thorin!" Ora hissed, daring to sneak a glance over the stone bench. Of course neither her father nor the other Dwarf had seen them, especially as they were so far away and too deeply engrossed in their own conversation.

Immediately the other three Dwarrowdams followed suit and dropped into the gap between the stone benches for cover.

"Who? Lord Dwalin?" Giora was watching Ora with a raised brow and a look of amusement.

"Yes!" Ora hissed.

"Don't you remember him? He's a friend of father."

"He is? Oh no, that makes it worse!" Ora groaned and Giora hooted another laugh before doing the unthinkable.

He stood up and raised both hands above his head and waved them, "Hey, pa! Pa, Ora's here! Come, come!"

Ora could have screamed, but instead she pinched Giora's leg as hard as she could.

Of course, being the warrior in training he was Giora barely even felt Ora's attempt to be abusive and instead grabbed her arm and yanked her up from the floor effortlessly. With a squeal Ora tried to run away, staring with wild eyes as her father approached them, however Dwalin was nowhere to be seen.

Noticing Ora's confused expression Giora let out a ungracious snort.

"He just left, you fool. Do you really think I'd do that to you?" He muttered in her ear, humour dripping from his words.

"That's not funny!" Ora tugged her arm away from Giora's tight grip, the blonde male just roared with laughter again.

"What's not funny?" Pul, Ora and Giora's father asked when near enough to hear them. He stood in the sandy arena, a few benches below them.

"Nothing, pa." Ora muttered, avoiding her father's hard gaze.

"No, pa. In fact, Ora was just saying how desperate she was to come hunting with us tomorrow."

Ora instantly groaned. She hated hunting. Not because she didn't like the outdoors, in fact she loved it. But it was just what hunting with her father and brother usually entailed.

"Oh tomorrow!" Ora tried to act surprised, and then disappointed, "I can't tomorrow, g'ma is expecting me to-"

"Nonsense!" Pul exclaimed in a roar that only just out boomed his son, "a bit of hunting will do you good!"

Ora faked a cough, "I'm still a little unwell actually."

"Come on sis!" Giora elbowed his little sister, "getting out of Erebor for the day might be a good idea." He added the last bit in a lower voice, so their hard of hearing father wouldn't hear.

"Oh, can I come?!" Ava chimed in desperately, obviously picking up on the fact that if she was out of the mountain she would be safe from the King's supposed fury.

"No." Ora replied with a glare, "You can stay here." Ava pouted.

"So you're coming then!" Giora exclaimed, clapping Ora on the back forcefully.

The blonde Dwarrowdam stumbled slightly before straightening herself up, "Yes." She replied begrudgingly. "I suppose I am."


	3. Chapter 3

Ora was cold, hungry, exhausted and not to mention covered in blood. Not her own though, oh no, her father and brother had lived up to her expectations and pulled a _hilarious_ prank on her involving the internal organs of a dead deer. She absolutely stunk and was itching to return to the Mountain and clean herself up.

"Slow down, grumpy!" Her father called as she marched on ahead through the snow,

"Don't get your braids in a twist!" Giora added, snickering along with Pul because they were just that funny.

"Oh har-har!" Ora hissed sarcastically, swirling round to glower at her brother and father, who were happily plodding along at their own pace, dragging two deer's with them. Ora herself was holding three hares and she shook them with anger at her infuriating family, who continued to look far too pleased with themselves.

"It was only a joke, Ora. Where's your sense of humour?" Giora called, giving the dead deer a hard tug when it got stuck in the snow.

"I have a sense of humour," Ora growled, "I just don't appreciate stinking of rotten animal."

"Hey!" Pul called, looking mildly offended by that comment, "They're fresh as daisies."

Ora rolled her eyes and turned back around, returning to her angry marching as she began to ascend a rock slope.

Erebor lay just the other side of the rocks and Ora was thankful they hadn't had to travel too far to hunt, she couldn't imagine having to walk any further than she already had done covered in mud and blood. She grumbled to herself the entire walk back to Erebor. Having a nice hot bath couldn't come sooner.

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Ora stomped through the halls of Erebor with Giora at her heel, trying to coax his way back into her good books.

"Seriously, Giora, I just want a bath right now." Ora grunted, weaving around a small gaggle of Dwarrowdams, all of which gave Ora a disgusted look. She spotted Fragh up ahead and groaned, of course the absolute last person she'd ever want to see looking like this was of course here. But why was she here?

"Oh no..." Giora spoke for her, eyes drifting past the back Fragh the Fouls big, greasy head to the Dwarf standing before her.

King Thorin seemed to be in conversation with the male Dwarf Fragh was standing next to, and when Ora made a sudden movement to run it must have caught his attention. His gaze shifted from the short, red headed Dwarf before him and his eyes landed on Ora.

Ora stopped dead in her place, her face draining of colour and her blood running cold. She knew better than to run now, especially while the King was watching her. However, he didn't make a move to advance on her and instead moved his attention back to the red headed Dwarf.

"Quick!" Giora hissed, pushing Ora down a nearby passage way before she had time to object. She quickly stumbled before sprinting away and taking the next flight of stairs down into the Mountain.

_How typical_, she thought, _up until a week ago I'd never even so much as caught a whiff of the King, and now he's everywhere._

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Once bathed and clean, Ora went to find Ava before supper. It didn't take long to find the Dwarrowdam, after checking where she lived Ora went to the training yard and spotted her sparring with a terrified looking Uli.

"Ora, oh thank Mahal you're back!" Uli cried having noticed Ora walking towards them, almost immediately she dropped the sword she was holding like it was a dead animal and backed away from it.

"Glad to see I'm missed." Ora snickered, picking up the discarded sword. "Have you been practicing hand to hand combat, Ava?"

Ava's sheepish smile said it all and Ora sighed, "After work tomorrow?" Ava asked, grinning cheekily.

Ora shrugged, "If you want. Remember if you lose that's not my problem."

"Yes it is! You're my mentor, if I lose the burden is on your shoulders." Counted Ava, following Ora to the weapon rack.

Ora raised her brow, "Since when did I agree to be your mentor? I don't remember this."

"I think you were drunk." Ava grinned devilishly, sheathing her own sword and holding it loosely at her side. "Can we go get some dinner in the Hall?"

"What if the King's there?" Uli appeared by Ava's side, her toffee coloured eyes large with fright.

"Yeah, I don't want another run in with him today." Ora muttered.

"Another one?" Uli and Ava asked in unison, following Ora when she turned to leave.

"Yes, another one. He was in the Entrance Hall when I replied, talking to Fragh the Foul."

"Urgh, bad taste." Gagged Ava and Ora snorted.

"Did he see you?" Asked Uli.

Ora paused, "I thought he did, but he looked away again."

"Maybe Fragh unknowingly saved your hide." Ava poked Ora in the chest.

"Or maybe he knew the paint incident was in fact an accident. If was obviously a basket full of supplies - which, by the way Ava, you owe me." Uli gave Ava a pointed glare.

"Either way, I don't think we should eat in the Main Hall for awhile."

The other two agreed, and instead when to Poe's stall to see what they could snuffle up there.

They had just descended a flight of stone steps when someone called out for them, turning they found Giora running towards the, grinning widely.

"Marg isn't here!" Ava called, folding her arms across her chest.

"Where is she?" Ora asked and Ava shrugged.

"I'm not looking for her, you toad. I'm looking for you three!" Giora puffed when he finally reached them, he bent over and rested his hands on his knees, "I've been looking everywhere for you."

"What is it?" Ora asked.

"I think you're off the hook!" He exclaimed, straightening up and grinning widely.

"What?"

"King Thorin, he asked if you were alright."

Ora scoffed, "What?"

"Yes! You should have seen the look on Fragh's face too- priceless!"

"Wait, he asked about me?"

"When you left he came over, and he asked where you went. I then explained you needed a bath," Ora scowled, but Giora ignored her, "He simply asked if you were alright after the incident in the lake. He didn't even mention the paint." He then puffed out his chest, "He also said I was a skilled swordsman."

"Oh, thank Mahal!" Ora breathed, a weight instantly lifted from her shoulders, and by the looks on Ava's and Uli's face they too were relieved. "Well, that's fantastic!"

"Marg will be relieved too." Added Uli.

Giora suddenly looked sheepish, "She already knows."

"Does that mean we can eat in the hall?" Ava asked, suddenly glowing with excitement.

Ora raised her brow, "Why are you so desperate to eat in the hall?"

Ava grinned, "I heard they're serving banoffee pie tonight."

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The hall was packed as usual, filled with hungry Dwarves stuffing their faces with the food that was piled high on their plates. The hall was made up of seven long wooden tables, the middle table being the one laden with food and drink. There was also a table at the far end of the hall that was slightly raised and positioned horizontally to look out over everyone. This, of course, was the royal table and although Ora was supposedly given the all clear, she was still glad to see it was empty.

Once Ora, Uli and Ava had each grabbed a plate they went about filing them with meats, cheeses, breads and roasted vegetables. Expect Ava, who loaded her plate up with pudding. Once finished the three Dwarrowdams turned to find a space, however a tall figure stepped out before them.

Uli groaned aloud as Fragh stared down at them, her thick arms folded across her broad chest. A little bit of gravy dribbled from her mouth, down her chin and into the rust coloured beard that clashed so horrifically with her hair.

"Can we help you, Fragh?" Ora said coolly.

Suddenly she thrust an accusing finger in Ora's face. "You," She hissed, meat juices spraying, "You stay away."

Ora furrowed her brow in confusion, "Erm, you were the one who came over here?"

"You know what I mean!"

Unfortunately for her, just as the words left her mouth the entire hall fell silent, causing her words to echo around the high stone room. Ava stifled a laugh and Ora glared at Fragh, completely ignoring the reason the hall fell silent until everyone started to curtsy and bow. Noticing this she turned to find the King and his Company walking through the hall and towards the main table, his eyes on the four of them.

Immediately Ora dropped in a curtsy, casting her eyes downwards. When she rose again, King Thorin had moved on, and she turned back to Fragh who had just finished her own curtsy and was now the colour of a beetroot.

"You were saying?" Ora taunted, internally giddy over the fact the King himself had seen her true colours.

Fragh just shook with anger before once more jabbing her finger into Ora's face, "Watch your back!" She hissed, before turning on her heel and storming off towards her table.

Ava was unable to hold her laugh in any longer and burst into hysterics, Ora and Uli soon followed.

"Oh, Mahal!" Uli giggled, "That was impeccable timing."

Still snickering the three Dwarrowdams went in search of a place to sit, eventually finding a place next to Giora and a few of his training friends.

"Are you all ready for Bulûr Maldarêm in two weeks, Ava?" Giora asked once the three of them had seated. Ora took a seat next to her brother, with Uli on her other side while Ava pushed two of Giora's friends aside so she sat across from them.

"Sort of." She replied sheepishly, glancing at Ora.

Ora snorted, "She hasn't quite grasped hand to hand combat." She went to raise a piece of bread to her mouth but Giora clapped her forcefully on the back, causing her to promptly drop the food.

"Well, you couldn't have a better mentor!" He boomed.

Ora scowled, "Seriously, when I sign myself up as Ava's mentor?"

She wasn't blessed with a reply however, and instead Giora ignored her, leaning forward and engaging Ava in conversation about combat.

Ora finally took a bite of bread. "You're quiet." She commented to Uli once she'd swallowed.

Uli was pushing her food around her plate with red cheeks, "The King's looking this way." She whispered.

"What?" Ora popped a potato in her mouth.

"The King," Uli hissed, "He keeps looking over."

Ora raised her brows, and with a full mouth she automatically looked over towards the head table where sure enough King Thorin was looking over in their direction. As soon as Ora's eyes locked with his he inclined his head towards her, before moving his gaze back to Lord Balin who was speaking to him.

Instantly Ora turned to Uli, "Do I have food around my mouth?"

"No."

"Good, that would have been embarrassing." Ora turned back to her plate. "I think I'm going to get some pudding in a bit, want to-" She stopped mid-sentence, cut off by the look Uli was giving her. "What?"

"The King just acknowledged you." She replied in a monotone, her face expressionless in disbelief. "The King, Ora."

"I don't think he did," Ora replied, furrowing her brow. She then turned around to look at the table behind, "He was probably looking at someone else." She shrugged.

Uli made a series of flustered sounds which Ora ignored, instead she stood.

"Where are you going?" Giora asked, watching her stand.

"I'm getting pudding, want anything?"

"Aye, another ale would be nice." He then trust his flagon into Ora's free hand.

"Me too, Ora!" Ava held out her flagon from across the table.

"What did your last servant die of?" Ora bantered, taking the empty flagon.

"Not doing what she's told."

Ora rolled her eyes and headed back towards the centre table. She filled a new plate with pudding before filling up the two flagons. Once finished she made sure everything was carefully balanced and stable before turning to head back towards her table, however, as she did so she spared a glance towards the head table.

She blinked up at the King for a moment, slowly registering that once again he was looking right at her. His eyes were watching her from across the room and his brows seemed furrowed in deep thought. She gave him a polite smile and a small curtsy before hurrying away again. She wasn't exactly sure if he was actually looking at her, he looked as though he was staring off and lost in deep thought. No matter though, the King could do what he wanted.

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"Ava, get up. Come on!" Ora heaved at Ava's arm as the Dwarrowdam groaned on the floor.

"Don't make me." She whined, turning her body into a dead weight.

Ora pulled again, only achieving in dragging the brunette across the dirt floor of the training yard. "Ava!" She snapped.

From behind her she could hear Giora and Marg giggling at them. She shot them a glare and they instantly stopped.

After a few more minutes of struggling Ora finally got Ava to her feet.

"Take stance." Commanded Ora, her usual eternal patience finally beginning to wane.

Thankfully Ava recognised the tone and did as she was told, dropping into position with her feet hip width apart and arms raised.

It didn't take long before Ava was on her back again, her head hitting the dirt hard and in response she let out a groan.

"Again." Ora commanded, barely out of breath. Ava was so predictable in her moves- or the lack of them.

"You're barely giving me a chance." Moaned Ava, slowly raising to prop herself up on her forearms.

"Do you really thing Fragh is going to 'give you a chance'?"

Ava's eyes popped violently, "She's competing too?!"

"Of course she is. Now up." Ora pulled on Ava's arm, pulling the reluctant Dwarf back to her feet before turning to take her place once again, as she did she shot over her shoulder: "Again." She wasn't looking where she was going, and the words had barely left her mouth before she walked straight into someone, "Ah!" Ora stumbled back, glaring up at the Dwarf who was in her space. No sooner than she did however her expression changed from irritation to embarrassment upon realising who the Dwarf was.

"Oh- Oh! Lord Dwalin, my apologies! I didn't see you there." _How_ exactly she didn't see the Dwarf who stood at just over five foot was beyond her, with his thick black, bushy beard and his build like the mountain itself. She stumbled back some more, and fell into an awkward half curtsy, half bow.

He didn't look amused, but also barely rattled by her clumsiness and instead quirked his brows, "You are Pul's youngest, are you not?" He peered at her, scrutinising her from under his bushy brows.

"Yes, my Lord." She squeaked, feeling a bit like a mouse staring up at a hungry cat.

"That explains it then." His face softened, "I remember you when you were just a little Dwarfling." His eyes twinkled as Ora's cheeks flared, "Still the same now as you were then."

Ora frowned, confused, "Pardon?"

He ignored her and changed the subject, "I trust you will be competing in the Bulûr Maldarêm." It was a statement, not a question.

Ora shook her head, "No, I'm not. I'm helping Ava here." She gestured towards where Ava was slowly trying to creep away.

"She's competing?" He said in a tone of disbelief.

Ora's frown depended at this. Ava was trying her hardest, and mockery wasn't exactly going to help her. "She's very talented with a sword, my Lord."

"And you? What is your weapon of choice?"

"An axe, my Lord."

He nodded, "Why are you not competing? You are more than capable from what I've seen."

Ora's eyebrows flew into her hair line and she scoffed an embarrassed laugh, heat rose from her cheeks all the way to her ears at the complement, especially coming from Lord Dwalin. What an honour!

"I do not fight, my Lord, not since..." Her words fell short and she cleared her throat, "Only to help Ava."

Lord Dwalin seemed to understand for he nodded, "I'm sure I will see you there." He then turned to Ava, "Good luck." He then walked away, his shoulder squared and his presence filling the entire yard.

Ora let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding.

"Well, he's terrifying." She snorted, turning towards her brother.

Giora was just smirking, "Even Lord Dwalin said you should enter." He responded pointedly.

"You have to now!" Ava added, grinning broadly.

"No." Came Ora's dead pan reply. "Come on, one more go and we can go for dinner."

That seemed like an offer Ava couldn't refuse and she instantly jumped into position, grinning widely.

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_Pretty dull chapter! I'm trying to squeeze in Thorin bits and pieces here and there but it will go into full swing in the next few chapters. I figured that because he was a King and Wren not of any nobility they can't just 'meet and fall in love'. So I'm working on him noticing her, Wren needs to make an impression to stand out (which she will do in the next chapter!) hehe!_

_He's also not going to just 'fall in love' with her. He's sooooo broken it'll probably take a great deal to mend his heart and break through his thick exterior *sobs*!_

_Also, sorry for the long update. I haven't been myself recently and my motivation has totally lacked, however, it's coming back!_

_Please let me know what you think of this story! You're reviews mean so much to me! Thank you so much to everyone who's already reviewed, followed and favourited!_

_And I'm sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors. I'm dyslectic and tired!_

_Thank you!_

_p.s I'VE CHANGED SOME OF THE NAMES_

_Wren is now called Ora_

_and Phen is now Giora_

_I changed the names because I thought they suited with the story better. Also, there will be another character introduced soon and his name fits with theirs (I won't say what it is yet!)_

_Ora means Gold_

_and Giora means strong. Giora is also pronounced G-i-ora_

_The G is like Goat, or Gimli, NOT G like George_

_sorry for being a pain!_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_


	4. Chapter 4

_I'm so sorry that I'm such a pain but I have changed Wren and Phen's names!_

_Wren is now Ora, which means Gold or Light_

_and Phen is now Giora, which means Strong._

_It is pronounced G-iora, the G sounding like the G in __**G**__oat or __**G**__imli, NOT like in George, or Geoff._

_I did this because I will be introducing a new character soon and I found the perfect name for him!_

_Also, I think these new names fit them better! Sorry, and thanks!_

.

The last few weeks leading up to Bulûr Maldarêm were a total whirlwind to Ora. She spent every day after work helping Ava practice, and thankfully the work was beginning to pay off. Ava's techniques had definitely improved when it came to hand to hand combat, but whether or not she was good enough to win... Well, that was undecided.

It was the day before Bulûr Maldarêm and Ora was forever grateful she had not seen hide nor hair of Fragh the Foul or the King. She was currently in the Main Hall, watching as Ava loaded her plate with food.

Reading Ora's expression Ava explained the mother of all plates of food, "Need to keep my energy up, aye?"

"I suppose so." Ora replied sceptically, her gaze travelling between her own plate and Ava's growing meat replica of Erebor. "If you put anymore food on that plate you'll be able to start your own kingdom."

Ava frowned and slowly stepped away from the table, "I'm going to find somewhere to sit."

Ora nodded, and turned back to the table to put some potatoes on her plate. No sooner had the spuds hit the china that a shadow cast over her, she turned to see Fragh looming down at her.

Obviously she spoke too soon about not seeing the wench.

Ora simply stared up at Fragh expectantly. She was totally uninitiated by her, she had never been afraid of bullies, and even though Fragh was not only a bully but also a highly ranked warrior Ora was still unfazed.

"Are you competing tomorrow, Ora?" Fragh hissed in her deep, rolling voice.

"No." Ora shrugged, appearing as unruffled as possible, mainly to rile Fragh up even more.

It was working, Fragh's face grew speedily hotter and hotter as her anger escalated, "Why? Are you chicken?" Her thin lips slid into a smirk from under beading moustache.

The hairs on Ora's arms prickled, "No. You know why."

Fragh made an ungracious snort, "Ah, yes. It is truly a shame your eldest brother is no longer around to watch his sister cower." She knew the consequences of her words, and so as soon as she finished her sentence she dodged out the way of Ora and quickly disappeared into the bustle of the hall. Ora went from indifferent to blind rage in approximately 0.6 seconds and her entire body shook with fury. If it wasn't for Ava appearing at that moment to stop her she would have made a leap for Fragh.

"Ignore her." Ava commanded, putting her hand firmly on Ora's shoulder to route her in place. Ava's usual cheery tone had disappeared and instead been replaced by the stony fighter very few new off.

"I won't judge you if you accidently-on-purpose really hurt her tomorrow." Ora replied, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and physically drained. She stared down at her almost empty plate. "I'm not hungry anymore." She shoved it in Ava's spare hand, "Keep your energy up."

"Don't go looking for her." Ava warned as Ora made a move to leave.

"I think she'd be wise to stay away from me, actually." Ora made her way out of the hall with her head held high, brushing past and weaving through the crowded room. She exited through the large stone archway and took a sharp right down a set of narrow steep steps, she followed the stairs right into the pit of the mountain, far underground.

This far into the belly of the mountain the only light was from the scarce torches that barely hung from the walls. The stone here was untouched, natural and the tunnel weaved to and through like a root.

A lone tear escaped Ora's large eyes and she quickly wiped it away, clearing her throat and holding her nose higher into the air. She was okay.

The snaking tunnel came to an end and opened out into a glowing, vast room. The room was completely polar to the entrance and passageway with its polished flooring and high ceiling. Seeping candles stood tall on silver candle sticks dotted around the room, igniting and veins of gold, silver and copper that ran through the walls and along the floor. Jewels of varying colours lay untouched within the stone and danced with every flicker that the candles gave off.

Ora took a deep, shaky breath before moving towards the far side of the hall and through a lower archway. She dropped down the few shallow steps that led down into a lower tier, and deeper into the resting place of many, many Dwarves.

Dwarves were traditionally buried within the walls in which they lived, they were returned to the stone from where they once emerged. Ora ran her hands over the smooth surfaces of the tombs as she glided through the maze of stone. She followed the worn path on the floor to yet another room, this was back up a tier and she turned left and rolled round a corner before finally arriving at her destination.

It didn't take her long to locate her grandfathers tomb, having been there a few times since returning to Erebor. She only wished her eldest brother lay beside him, but he was buried in the Wild.

An overwhelming sadness crashed into her like a wave and she fell to her knees before the tomb, her head in her hands as she sobbed.

She missed her grandfather dearly, having lost him a few years before Smaug's attack. They were ever so close, but at the same time that wound had healed, it had been his time. Her grandmother was exceptionally old for a Dwarf, and often spoke of not giving up just yet. 'I've got far too much to do before I surrender myself back to Mahal and the stone' she would say, usually flustered and hot faced about the topic of death.

However, as Ora sobbed quietly to herself about her Grandfathers passing she couldn't suppress the greater ache that tainted her heart. The ache of missing someone much closer, and much too early.

She didn't even hear the sound of approaching footsteps until a large hand gently touched her shoulder.

She instantly jumped up, her bloodshot eyes round and cheeks still wet with tears. It took her a few moments to register who it exactly standing before her, and when she did she abruptly dropped into a curtsy.

"M-my Lord Balin. My sincerest apologies."

Lord Balin frowned deeply, "Oh, lass, do not apologise for weeping. Here," He handed her a handkerchief, through the low light the white of the fabric seemed to glow.

"T-thank you." Ora sniffed, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief.

"A member of your kin?" Lord Balin asked, gesturing softly to the tomb by her side. His expression was soft and caring, and he looked at her with genuine concern.

Ora nodded, "My G-grandfather, my Lord. He was a baker."

Lord Balin smiled then, "Surely not the genius creator of the sticky, honey bun?" His eyes lit up at the mention of the dessert.

Ora almost laughed, "Yes, that was him. I have taken his place."

"Ah, Ora, isn't it?" Ora was surprised he knew her name, "Your grandmother speaks of you often." Ah, that explains it.

"Yes, my Lord. But I can assure you nothing she says about me is true." Ora smiled sheepishly then, her eyes brightening somewhat.

Lord Balin chuckled, "Oh, yes. She only speaks fondly, I promise you."

Ora wiped her eyes again and smiled appreciatively at him, before turning her gaze to the material in her grasp.

Obviously sensing her thoughts Lord Balin spoke, "Keep that my dear, it seems you need it more than I."

"Thank you." She said sincerely. He gave her a affectionate nod of his head and she returned it with a small curtsy before he left.

She couldn't help but wonder why it was he was here exactly, so instead of being polite and letting him be she made her way towards the archway he had left through, adjacent to the one she had entered.

Peeking round the corner her eyes searched the next hall, instantly recognising it to be for those of royalty. It was larger than any of the other halls, with higher ceilings and immaculately kept finishing's. Royal blue banners hung from the walls with the Durin crest embroidered on them in silver; the walls themselves were intricately lined with vast jewels and golden veins, more so than the other halls and in beautiful patterns and sequences.

It was while her eyes were following a particularly vivid pattern of ruby gem stones that she once again caught sight of Lord Balin, and by his side, standing tall with raven hair and attire that matched the royal blue finishing's was King Thorin. His crown shone like it was incrusted with millions of tiny diamonds in the faint light of the candles and Ora couldn't help but get the urge to touch it.

Of course she didn't, instead she stayed routed to her spot half hidden behind the stone archway as her eyes looked the King up and down. On closer inspection he was more handsome than she had originally thought. The silver in his hair framed his face and gave him a wise edge; his straight nose and thin lips so perfect in Ora's eyes that her stomach filled with butterflies.

Upon feeling like this she quickly vanished back around the corner.

"Oh, Mahal." She breathed, shaking her head slightly. The King was indeed handsome.

Her train of thought changed direction when she began to wonder why he was there. A sadness once against swelled within her. He was probably visiting his own kin.

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"Okay, Ava, remember what I told you-"

"Yes, yes, knees apart and don't get distracted. Got it."

Ora stopped fussing over Ava and took a step back with a sigh. "You can do this." She smiled reassuringly at her friend, trying to ignore her own feelings of nervousness that crept up her spine.

Ava grinned, "I know I can."

Just then the stadium roared, signalising one match was over and that the next was to begin. It was Ava's turn.

It was knife throwing first, something Ora was sure Ava would pass in. She wasn't the best, but all she had to do was get through this round and onto swordsmanship- something she excelled in. Then it was onto the dreaded combat.

"You're more nervous than I am." Ava pointed out, coming to stand by Ora at the edge of the stadium with the other competitors. Ora didn't reply, she was too busy assessing the competition for the hand to hand combat, her eyes dragged from one Dwarf to the next, looking for weaknesses as well as strengths.

The crowd roared once more, and Ora pushed Ava towards the main arena.

"Good luck!" She called. Ava just waved her hand dismissively.

Ora heard Giora yell from his side of the arena, his booming voice drowning out more calls than most. While Ava prepared her set, Ora's eyes travelled the crowd. She caught the eye of her father as he spoke to Lord Dwalin on the lowest tier of steps and waved at him, he of course waved back and Lord Dwalin turned and nodded at her.

The stadium fell silent as Ava had her go, her knives hitting the raised target on the other side of the yard with almost perfect accuracy. She didn't quite hit the bulls-eye however, but so far no one did. And by the end of the round no one had.

As Ava passed Ora she clapped her on the back in congratulations, grinning widely. Ava was practically vibrating with joy, and she nearly keeled over when Fragh had her turn and fell short.

"You beat Fragh!" Ora sung ecstatically, her voice low so the Dwarf in mention wouldn't hear. Ava simply grinned broadly.

The next round came and went with no difficulties on Ava's part, she literally wiped the floor with anyone she was partnered up against. When it came to swordsmanship she was certainly, without a doubt talented.

Whilst waiting for the third round to start Ora's eyes scaled the crowd once more. She grinned and waved when she spotted Uli and Marg sitting near the front, Uli was grinning widely and jumping up and down and waving wildly at them. Marg was also standing, although her eyes were glued to Giora as he sat on the other side of the yard, totally unaware of her penetrative gaze.

She also spotted her father and mother as they sat in the front row, obviously in anticipation for Giora's matches. Her mother looked mildly bored as her father was engrossed in deep conversation with Dwalin who was sitting beside him.

Her wandering gaze continued, until she caught sight of the King. He sat between Prince Fili and Prince Kili, both of whom looked positively itching to have a go at the games themselves, but of course they weren't allowed to. Mahal forbid that one of them would get injured.

Ora rolled her eyes at the rule, it's not like they went on a quest to slay a dragon or anything, was it?

She was dragged from her thoughts by the stadium roaring once more, and Ora abruptly stood, dragging Ava with her and towards the side of the arena.

Turning towards Ava, she noticed the brunette had lost her cockiness and now looked a little worried.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine. The one you're up against has a bad knee." Ora smiled reassuringly before pushing Ava towards the circle.

Ava was met by another Dwarrowdam of similar size and structure of herself. The other Dwarf looked more nervous than Ava did judging by the beads of sweat which glistened on her brow.

By the end of the brawl Ora was standing right on the edge of the seating area, leaning over to get as close as possible and biting her nails in anticipation.

"Come on, Ava... Come on, the knee, the knee... Yes!" Ora jumped up in celebration as Ava struck her opponents left knee with full force. The Dwarf instantly crumpled in pain on the floor and made no move to get back up.

The stadium applauded, and Ava grinned at Ora, running towards her and jumping into an embrace.

"I did it! I beat her!"

"Two more rounds to go!" Ora was positively glowing with joy.

Their mood soon wore off, however, as the games pursued. Fragh was up next, and practically slaughtered her opponent within moments. From beside her Ora heard Ava gulp loudly.

When Ava's next round rolled around she was poisoned by nerves.

"You're not up against Fragh." Ora commented, standing beside Ava as they waited for the last opponents to vacate the ring.

"But if I win this round I will be." Ava replied, her tone flat. "I should lose now and save myself the agony of Fragh flattening me."

"No." Ora swung round and grasped Ava by her shoulder, "You can beat her, prove her wrong. Prove them all wrong. Show her what you are."

Ava straightened up, a new look of determination swept over her face and her eyes twinkled at the challenge.

"Okay." She took a deep breath before turning and striding towards the ring.

Ora quickly caught her arm and pulled her back slightly, "Aim for the gut." She nodded her head towards the waiting opponent and winked.

Ava seemed to be running off a new roll of confidence for she seemed to beat this Dwarrowdam easier than the last. Ora had known that Bera- Ava's opponent- had suffered a stabbing to her stomach several years ago. It seemed like a harsh blow, but by the way Bera was infamously nicknamed 'The Skull Cracker' and was aiming for Ava's skull it only seemed fair.

It only took a few kicks in the gut to get Bera to double over, Ava then quickly struck the back of the Dwarrowdams neck with her elbow sharply and Bera keeled over.

The crowd erupted into cheer and Ava quickly came flying back over to Ora, grinning proudly.

Once they took their seats again at the edge of the yard they watched in silence as Fragh and another Dwarrowdam took their positions. Fragh stood a good head taller than her opponent, and by the looks of it her opponent was absolutely terrified.

"What's Fragh's weakness?" Ava whispered, her gaze travelling between Fragh and Ora as she carefully studded the troll of a Dwarf.

Ora was silent for a painfully long moment, "You can run rings around her. She's fast, but you can be faster."

Ava didn't seem satisfied with this answer but didn't say anymore. Instead she leant back, leaning against the wall behind her and shutting her eyes, humming to herself and bounding her legs in anticipation.

Ava's turn seemed to roll around far too quickly, and Ora was glad Ava had her eyes shut during the duration of Fragh's match, that way she couldn't see Fragh's opponent being carried off unconscious.

There were a few of the male Dwarf matches in between the finale, and Ava's humming grew louder and louder.

Ora's heart raced painfully hard in her chest and she grew light headed. Before she knew it the crowd boomed with applause.

"Me next." Ava muttered, more to herself than anyone else and although Ava's eyes were still shut Ora nodded.

The next few minutes crawled by, and by the time the crowd finally silenced Ava was bent over with her head in her hands. Ora put a hand on her hand comfortingly.

"You'll be fine."

"I'm going to die."

Ora sighed and stood, pulling Ava to her feet also before pushing her towards the ring. She stopped at the edge of the arena and stared out towards the ring.

"Good luck." She said before giving Ava a final shove towards the ring.

The fight was over in minutes.

Ava was a head shorter than Fragh and half the stature, so it wasn't long before she was face down in the dirt.

The crowd roared as the matched ended. Fragh grinned menacingly down at Ava as she groaned on her stomach, slowly trying to pull herself out of the ring.

Ora was by her side within an instant and pulled her to her feet. She wrapped an arm around her waist to let Ava lean some weight against her.

"I lost." Ava murmured.

"But you didn't die. There's always a silver lining." Ora tried to sound cheery and reassuring, but her tone turned flat. Out of the corner of her eye Ora saw Uli and Marg come running over.

"That's what you get," Fragh spat, gaining Ora's attention as she struggled to support a waning Ava, "When you have a poor teacher."

Ora thought she was speaking to Ava, and referring to herself. She simply rolled her eyes and hoisted Ava's weight further up. Just then Uli came to join them and took Ava's other arm.

"I don't think she can hear you." Uli hissed.

"I wasn't talking to her."

Ora looked up and round Fragh malicious stare on her. She instantly went stiff, "I'll have you know I had an excellent teacher."

"Obviously not. Your brother couldn't even keep himself alive, let alone teach you-"

Fragh was cut off by Ora's fist colliding with her jaw. Ora had moved so fast from Ava that Uli had almost toppled over.

"Ora!" Pul yelled, he'd been watching the entire time and instantly everyone in the stands was on their feet, jeering and cheering at Fragh and Ora as unscheduled chaos unfolded before them.

Marg quickly ran back towards the stands as Ora's mother and father pushed their way towards the arena.

"What happened?" Pul exclaimed, pushing to the front and staring down at Marg as she stood before him on the sandy yard.

She suddenly look sheepish, unsure of how to word it without upsetting the ex-warrior, all the while a scene of turmoil unravelled behind her. Ora advanced on Fragh once again, she'd been the only one to land a decent blow on the Dwarf throughout the entire games.

For a moment Fragh just stood there, completely shocked at the blood that was oozing from her nose and lip. Her surprised expression soon turned menacing and she let out a roar of anger, fists clenching at her sides.

"Spit it out, lass!" Pul roared at Marg, dragging her attention away from her friend and enemy.

"Fragh insulted Jora!" As soon as Ora's brothers name popped from her mouth Pul's expression blanked. He then turned towards his daughter who stood just off the main ring.

"Show her what we're made of, Ora!" He yelled, pushing his fist into the air.

Ora didn't hear him however, she was far too preoccupied with glowering at Fragh as she slowly advanced towards her.

"Is that the best you've got?" Fragh taunted, an evil grin gracing her pig-like face. "No wonder you weren't capable of saving him."

Ora snapped.

She had never forgotten that night, that night they were ambushed in the Wild, the night they lost more than half of their company. That night she had lost her eldest brother, her teacher, her best friend. She remembered the way he cried out in agony as the Orc struck him.

She would never forgive herself for not being at his aid, not being at his side and not being able to help him. Every night her dreams were haunted by that scene.

Ora's vision hazed over and both Dwarrowdams charged at each other. Ora quickly ducked Fragh's raised fist and struck the back of the Dwarves head with her elbow as she slid past.

Fraugh stumbled slightly on impact and Ora didn't hesitate. She grabbed the back of Fragh's ugly head and pulled her hair, bringing it down sharply onto her knee.

The entire stadium was an uproar or cheering, jeering and yelling. But no one tried to stop them.

There was a loud crack as Fragh's nose broke along with a few teeth. Ora pulled Fragh's head back and let go. Just as Fragh stabled herself Ora flung her fist into Fraghs nose once more, then kicked her in the gut.

Fragh doubled over and Ora jumped, pulling both her legs back before thrusting them forward into Fragh's face.

An old fire had ignited within Ora, a fire that hadn't burned for so long.

Fragh fell backwards and Ora advanced once more, bending over the Dwarrowdam that now lay panting on the dirt floor, her face blooded. Ora grabbed the front of her tunic and pulled her up, raising her fist once again the finish her off.

"Enough!"

A booming voice rang out into the stadium and Ora instantly snapped to her senses and promptly dropped Fragh. She raised her gaze to find King Thorin standing before her in the ring, glowering down with her with such ferocity in his piercing blue eyes her knees almost shook.

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_Eeeeeeek!_

_Okay…_

_I'M SO SORRY ABOUT THE NAME CHANGE!_

_IT'S JUST… I JUST… GAH_

_Sorry about that._

_But thank you so much for everyone who has reviewed, you're all so lovely!_

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	5. PLEASE READ xx

Hey guys, I'm sorry this isn't an update! I will be updating this story in the next TWO days! Just finishing off the chapters.

I just wanted to let you know that I now have Tumblr and I will be using it to post **previews**, **snippets** (short **fillers** and **extras** that don't make it into chapters), **character** **information** and **pictures**! _and lots more_! so please follow meeeee, I'll most likely follow back :)

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My user name is BrightPinkPineapple! Thanks! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


	6. Chapter 5

Ora stood practically shaking in her boots as she stared up at her king, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

"What is the meaning of this?" He demanded, his voice like a growl, and even though his tone was low every Dwarf in the yard could hear him. Ora instantly averted her gaze.

For a long moment she just stood there, opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water.

Suddenly, Fraugh began to pull herself up from the ground, "She-she just came at m-me, my Lord." The Dwarrowdam staggered to her feet and hobbled over to stand before king Thorin, "You should have seen the look in her eyes, I thought she was going to kill me..."

Thorin watched Fraugh with his intense blue eyes, and Ora stayed silent, quietly nursing her swollen fist.

"Is this true?" Thorin turned his attention to Ora, his voice still a snarl.

Ora suddenly puffed out her chest and cleared her throat, her eyes glassy. "She spoke ill of my brother, your majesty."

Thorin's gaze flickered to where Giora stood by her side, his brow suddenly furrowed. He opened his mouth to what Ora was sure would detail her punishment when Dwalin suddenly appeared at Thorin's shoulder. He whispered something to the King, whose attention was back on Fraugh. When Dwalin moved away again, his attention was on Ora.

"You." Thorin said to Ora, his voice so brash she almost flinched, "Dwalin will accompany you to the healing chambers. And you," His gaze dropped to land on Fraugh who was still staring at him, "You come with me."

If Ora thought the way he spoke to her had be harsh, it was nothing in comparison to how he spoke to Fraugh. She obviously noticed it to for her face drained of all colour.

"M-my Lord," She began, but King Thorin ignored her and turned away. She hesitated, but had no other choice but to follow.

Dwalin stepped up to Ora as she stood there utterly dumbfounded.

"Are you alright, lass?" He asked, just as Ora's parents came hurrying over.

"Ora!" Her mother gasped, coming up to grasp her daughter by the shoulders, "What in the name of Mahal has gotten into you?"

Ora ignored all the questions that suddenly flooded towards her, she just stood there, completely lost until she was led away by her Giora, Pul and Dwalin. Her mother lingered behind with Marg, Uli and Ava to find out exactly what had happened.

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By the time Ora got to bed that night, she was completely and utterly trained. Never had she felt so weak and exhausted and subsequently she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

She was awoken late the following morning to the smell of bacon, eggs and sausages filling her nose and making her mouth water. Her stomach rumbled hungrily and slowly she blinked her eyes open.

"You missed the celebrations." Giora said softly, in his hands he a plate piled high with breakfast delights.

"Oh." Was all Ora could manage as she slowly pushed herself up from the depths of her bed. She hadn't actually received a single injury from Fraugh, other than a swollen fist and knee, but she still felt precious, like she was hung over, or made of glass.

Giora pushed the plate of food into Ora's eager grasp and she ate hungrily.

"I don't think that even touched the sides." Giora jested, eyes twinkling with amusement as Ora licked the plate clean.

"What of Fraugh?" She asked once finished.

Giora shrugged and shifted himself on her bed, "Rumour has it she'll be mucking out the pigs until Durins day."

Ora snorted, but then her face drained and gut clenched, "And what about me?"

"What about you?"

"What is my punishment?"

Giora smirked, "You're not in trouble."

Ora blinked a few times, then ran her hands through her mass of blonde hair, "What? For the love of Mahal how do I keep doing this?"

Giora let out his booming laugh, "Fraugh was in the wrong; she provoked you." His face turned serious, "Making fun of one's deceased brother is not something the king takes likely..." His voice hardened at the last part, obviously not finding it amusing himself. "I think, in the end, he totally turned a blind eye to your actions."

They fell silent for a long moment, and Ora rubbed her eyes, and not knowing how to reply to that she just changed the subject. "I'm going to the bathing chambers." She said, thrusting her now clean plate into Giora's lap, "Then, will you accompany me to Dale?"

Giora nodded happily, getting up before helping his little sister out of bed. "Of course, sister dearest."

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The centre of Dale was magnificent, and looking brand new in the way of repairs. If it wasn't for the still run down outer buildings one would never know a dragon ever attacked.

The heart of Dale was all hustle and bustle, crammed with stalls and shops all holding various arrangements of goods and possessions, all varying in colour and size.

Ora spent a long time browsing, and she was pretty sure Giora was beginning to regret his decision to join her as she hovered around yet another clothing stall.

"Just buy one," He groaned as Ora plucked at a particularly fancy dress.

Ora frowned over her shoulder at him. She had a soft spot for pretty dresses, what girl didn't? But she didn't ever buy one. For one they were far too much, and secondly as just a baker she had no need for an elaborate dress, they were designed for Nobles and Blue-Bloods, not working class. She loved the idea of dressing up, looking beautiful, but she had no reason to do so, and there was no practicality in baking sticky, honey buns in a jewel incrusted gown.

"Oh isn't this beautiful, Giora?" She held up a sunshine yellow dress. Although not usually a colour she would be drawn to, this gown called out to her. Its elaborate embroidery delicately decorated the pretty yellow dress at the cuff and hems with little silver waves. Along the fitted bodice ran an intricate detailing of small, soft pearls and the skirts hung loosely in silks and satins.

"Yeah, yeah..." Giora grumbled, not even looking. His attention was laying at the stall next door where an inviting waft of fresh cake was flowing from and making his stomach rumble. "Are you quite done yet?"

With a sigh Ora set the dress back, giving it one last, longing look before turning to leave.

"It would look lovely with your hair, dear." Came a kind voice and Ora turned, spotting a middle aged woman standing in the doorway of the stall that obviously led out into the back of the shop. She had large, round eyes that were such a dark brown they almost seemed black, and her greying hair was tied loosely atop her head. She was tall, even for a human, and she towered over Ora, but not in an unkind way.

Ora picked at one of her blonde curls, her gaze travelling back to the dress, "I really can't..."

"Your eyes will shine like emeralds..." The lady continued, stepping out into the stall of gowns.

Ora pouted, "Thank you, maybe another time. Durin's day will be upon us in not time... Maybe then..." In fact, Durin's day was over half a year away, and the thought of never seeing that dress again made her heart ache.

The woman nodded, her gaze following Ora as she left the stall to go find her brother.

"You didn't buy it then?" Giora noticed his sister return empty handed.

"No," Ora sulked, pouting once more.

"Get this down your neck."

Before Ora even had a chance to ask what 'this' was Giora had shoved a strawberry pastry into her open mouth. Instantly she spluttered but managed not to choke on the sweet dessert.

"Giora!" She scowled, making a fussy around the pastry and trying to now eat it with dignity. Easier said than done. She couldn't just spit it out after all.

In response Giora just howled around his own dessert, and the two siblings continued their meandering about.

"Did everyone see the little incident yesterday?" Ora suddenly asked after catching a young Dwarf staring at her.

Giora snorted, "The entire kingdom saw you. Mahal, Ora, you truly have made yourself known."

Ora's eyes popped and she tripped on nothing, "What?!"

Giora raised his thick fingers and began to count, "First it was the incident with in the lake- that certainly got peoples tongues wagging, if nothing else. Then it was the basket-"

"No one saw that."

"I may have told some people..." Giora replied looking guilty.

Ora groaned and Giora continued, "And thirdly, the fiasco with Fraugh, honestly Ora. Mahal save your soul."

He was joking, of course. But Ora couldn't help but wring her hands in the front of her skirt and chew on her bottom lip. She truly had made a fool of herself, and all in front of the Nobles and Royals, how humiliating. They probably laughed about the 'silly baker' over dinner.

"Oh, Mahal..." She mumbled, letting her head hang low in shame.

The siblings browsed only a few more stools after that as Giora had to get back to the mountain to work in the forges with Pul.

Eventually they retreated back, but not before Ora picked up a rather interesting baking recipe book.

"Desserts of the South..." Giora read over her shoulder as she examined the book once more, "sounds... Interesting."

"I just want to try some of them." She replied, flicking through the pages as they followed the path back to the mountain. "Maybe I can persuade G'ma to put them on the stool – if they're any good."

Giora snorted, knowing just how stubborn their elder was. Poe had always refused to even tweak an existing recipe, let alone add a new one entirely. She said it wasn't how _they_ used to do it. 'They' meaning herself and their grandfather, and how they used to run the stall.

Once they arrived back at the mountain they headed in separate ways, Giora went to the forges while Ora went to find Ava.

She was on her way to the training yard when a bran haired, highly strung Dwarrowdam game flying into her.

"Marg?!" Ora cried, clutching at the girl so she didn't topple over. Marg was panting, out of breath and had a thin layer of sweat coating her brow. Her hair was falling from its braids and her dress was all over the place. Seeing Marg in such a state was totally uncharacteristic, and somewhat worrying. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?!" Marg repeated in a shrill, pitchy voice. Ora then noticed that she was grinning broadly, her eyes sparkling with utter joy. Suddenly, Ora was pulled down a nearby hallway, and away from the main entrance. Marg dragged Ora into a secluded corner and held her there while she caught her breath.

"Marg, what is it?" Ora was concerned, "Your hair..." She made an attempt to right her friend's hair, but she wasn't exactly skilled when it came to braiding, and she ended up making it worse.

Marg shook her head, and batted Ora's hand away. "No, the king... the king..." She continued to pant, and she gulped, "Where have you been?!"

"I was in Dale!" Ora blinked, "The king?"

"I was cleaning the Princes chambers - like everyday - and-and he came in with them, and then he saw me! And for a moment I don't think he recognised me- because I mean, why would he?" She continued to babble, ranting on through gasping for air. "And then he looked at me, and then he _asked_ if I _knew_ you!"

Ora's eyes popped, "What?"

"And of course I said yes, and that I'm one of her friends, and he nodded at me! He knows who you are Ora - the king!"

Ora's head swum, "Oh Mahal..."

"Why aren't you smiling? Why aren't you happy? Imagine the opportunities, Ora! Your baking could take off! Imagine it now 'The King's Baker', what a title!" Marg's eyes swan with awe and a longing smile graced her lips, "Oh, Ora..."

Ora sunk down the stone wall and onto the cold floor, blinking in silence at Marg's feet.

"Well, I suppose I haven't exactly kept a low profile, have I?" She finally grumbled, and Marg instantly crouched down in front of her, her expression now concerned. She reached out and tucked a blonde wave behind Ora's ear.

"He also asked how you were faring, again... And then I think he said something about you being a fool..."

Ora's cheeks instantly heated up and she groaned loudly, dropping her head into her hands, "I am a fool!"

"I'm sure he was joking." She said hurriedly, looking suddenly sheepish. Ora glanced up to give Marg an incredulous look.

"King Thorin was _joking_, honestly?" Ora had never even seen the king pull a smile, let alone laugh. She doubted he even knew what a joke was!

"Oh, Ora, look for the silver lining. You have a chance to get yourself known."

"I don't want to make myself known." Ora replied matter-of-factly, "I want to live a normal, peaceful life like the next Dwarf."

It was Marg's turn to look exasperated, "Ora, my dear, the term 'peaceful' does not come with you."

Ora groaned once more, knowing that her friendly was unfortunately correct.

"Mahal, spare me?"

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Ora was grumbling to herself, muttering curses and blasphemies so foul under her breath if anyone was to hear her they toes would curl. But she was all alone, so no one would hear her.

She had a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead and she was breathing heavily, arms aching and feet already sore.

It was in the early hours of the morning, and she had snuck out of Erebor to meet the ships porting at the docks near Dale. She had collected a large bag of flour (her other bag had run sort, due to her spilling a large amount a few weeks back) and now she was paying the price for being so clumsy.

Usually Giora would assist her in the partaking of hauling flower around Erebor, but he refused to stir from his slumber and Ora had to go alone. She knew she shouldn't have, it was totally against the rules for a female Dwarf to venture further than the gates without an accompaniment, no matter what their class. But Ora was down to the last few grams of flour, so she had no choice but to go alone.

Of course, she could have waited until the morning and brought a smaller sum of flour at a much greater price from one of her fellow market folk. But Poe would most likely box her ears for that. No, she must get it wholesale from the docks, the proper, 'untainted' flour as Ora's grandmother would say.

Ora sighed inwardly, taking a moment to pause from pushing the huge sack of flour and silently mulling over the fact her grandmother was convinced that the other market folk _did_ something to their flour.

Ora began to push the large sack once more against the polished stone floors. If Giora was here he'd have no problem with tossing the sack over one shoulder and walking through the halls with the beast. But no, he was asleep in bed, leaving his 'sister darling' to go about this all by herself.

Ora grumbled again. She hadn't even thought about how she was going to handle the stairs.

"Can I ask _what_ you are doing exactly?"

The deep rumbling voice startled Ora so much she let out a rather ungracious yelp and toppled straight over the large sack of flour, landing on the stone floor with a loud _thump_.

It took her a few moments to compose herself and stop her head from spinning, but once she had she quickly processed what had happened. She quickly scrambled to her feet, preparing to throw verbal insults at her assassin. But when she saw who it was she stopped dead.

"M-M-M! King!" She fell into an awkward curtsy, just as the king said;

"Oh, it's _you_."

"Yes, yes, me, me here…" She looked everywhere except king Thorin, taking exceptional interest in a golden vain in the mountain wall.

There was a long pause, and Ora was beginning to debate leaving, when the king spoke again.

"You didn't answer my question."

Ora found her gaze unwillingly returning to her king. He stood in his usual stance; hands clasped superiorly behind his back, feet hip width apart and chin tilted up slightly so he was looking down on her.

"You-Your question?" It took a moment for Ora to process the situation, "Oh! Yes! I'm… I'm ermm…" She glanced down at the large sack of flour before her. It was painfully obvious _what_ she was doing. There was no mistaking that she was lugging an enormously large amount of flour around Erebor, but she assumed her king meant '_why'_. Of course, she knew she couldn't lie to him, but she couldn't tell him the truth, surely.

"I'm moving flour… around."

The king raised his brow, "Why?"

"Because…" Ora itched her ear, "I need to take it to the bakery."

"From where?"

Ora gulped. He _knew_.

Ora began to splutter, and grew nearly hysterically when he took a step towards her. She involuntarily backed away, but at this Thorin paused and raised an eyebrow.

"I saw your return." He said coolly, "your pony has seen better days."

Ora cringed, "she is old, my Lord, I grant you."

"You went alone." It was an observation, not a question.

But she replied anyway, "Yes… M-my brother was supposed to help me… but…"

"But?"

"He's asleep."

Thorin paused for a moment, taking a long look at the bag of flour, "How are you going to manage getting this down those stairs?"

Ora stared dumbly at him for a moment. He'd totally breezed over the fact she went outside _unattended_.

"Well…" She paused hesitantly, "I was going to push it... I can't- wait, wait, my king!" Ora nearly broke down when king Thorin closed the distance between himself and the sack of flour. In one swift movement he easily pulled the bag over his left shoulder and straightened up. Ora didn't know what to do with herself. She hurried over to him, standing before him and fussing about. She went to pull the sack off him, but then realised that wouldn't work. She then tried (gently) to pull his arm down so he'd let go. She _then_ tried to prize his fingers away from the canvas sack. All her attempts were to no prevail, and she found herself nearly panicking. Her king, _her king_, was standing before her holding _her_ large sack of flour.

In fact, he looked rather amused.

He was a good head taller than her, at least, and watching her scurry around him like some sort of frightened mouse was almost entertaining. It was a completely different reaction to the one in the training yard during Bulûr Maldarêm, and an even more diverse one from the first time he'd seen her, soaking wet from hauling a Dwarfling out the lake.

"You want this down in the market?" He asked, stepping around her. Instantly he felt her dash to his side, her blonde ringlets bouncing slightly as she hurried along beside him, arms raised tentatively towards the flour in case he _dropped_ it. He nearly snorted. Even if he was to drop it – which he wouldn't – there was no way she'd be able to catch it.

"Erm… Yes, yes please, my Lord." She replied. She sounded nervous, and sparing her yet another glance she noticed her eyes were the largest he'd ever seen. Round with surprise and an impressive emerald green colour.

He turned away, finding himself admiring the way she looked far too much with her heart shaped face, thick eyelashes, and apple cheeks.

Ora scurried after him, having to move her legs nearly double the speed to keep up with his long strides.

"You don't have to do this, your highness." Ora said after they'd descended the first flight of steps. Ora noticed how little he seemed to struggle with the flour, if at all in fact.

"I know I don't." He replied, turning a corner. Ora nearly missed the turn however, and caught herself just in time before she walked straight into the wall. Her gaze was so fixated on her king she totally wasn't paying attention to where she was going herself.

Thorin's features were blank, and she couldn't help but steal far too many glances up at him. She'd never been this close to the king before.

Ora was choked for words, "I want to apologise," The words popped out her mouth before she got a chance to stop herself. Her king stopped walking mid stride, turning to her and staring down at her with such intensity Ora took an uneasy step back.

He was so majestic, regal and composed. It totally rattled Ora's brains.

"For what?"

"Well, a number of things I suppose…" She trailed off, once again finding her eyes drifting to anywhere but the king.

"Go on…"

"For the paint." Oh, Mahal, she should _not_ have said that. Her king opened his mouth but Ora quickly continued and pretended like she hadn't noticed, "And for making a fool of myself at the Bulûr Maldarêm. I honestly don't know what came over me…"

Ora could have sworn her king was going to throw the bag of flour straight at her. But to her complete and utter surprise he simply inclined his head towards her, turned on his heel and continued in the direction of the market.

For a long time Ora just stared after him, so long in fact that king Thorin was nearly out of sight. Ora quickly ran after him. Totally gob smacked over what was happening.

But a question was burning on her tongue.

She shouldn't. She wouldn't dare. She can't.

"If you don't mind me asking, my Lord, but why are you up at this late hour?" She did. And she instantly cringed and bit her tongue. That was totally the wrong thing to do. The king was already being far too generous for her liking, and it was making her uncomfortable that she was just _letting_ him carry her flour around like some sort of common pack mule.

She instantly opened her mouth to apologise but Thorin cut her off, "I believe the hour is early, not late."

Ora kept her words tamed this time, "I suppose you're right…" She thought that was it, or at least that would be it. She'd stepped over the line as it was. Mahal, she'd stepped over it when she allowed the king of Erebor to carry her luggage for her.

She nearly tripped over her own feet when the king continued.

"I find it hard to sleep these days."

That was unexpected. And for a long moment Ora was silent, unable to think of words to say back to that. The moment seemed most definitely private, but before she could hold her tongue she found herself saying; "My mother used to give my brothers and me warm milk with honey and cinnamon when we couldn't sleep." She instantly flushed bright red, only realising when the words fell from her lips how childish that sounded.

However, Thorin glanced over in her direction and inclined his head towards her. But said no more.

They walked the rest of the way in more or less silence. Occasionally Ora would start fussing again or make a comment about how she could carry the sack the rest of the way. King Thorin ignored her every time.

Once they reached the bakery night was turning into dawn, but no one was stirring just yet.

"This is your bakery?" Thorin asked once he'd settled the sack down in the kitchen.

"Yes." Ora replied nervously, trying to subtly push an unwashed bowl behind her back, "Mainly my Grandmothers, though."

Ora thought she saw a flicker of a small smile on his lips, but when she blinked it was gone.

His gaze lingering around the small room, taking in the slightly warn appliances.

"It's seen better days, I know. But G'ma refuses to change a thing." She said, hoping he wasn't judging them too much. King Thorin's piercing gaze landed on her, and he gently inclined his head towards her. He turned to leave but Ora quickly blurted, "I'm so thankful for your help, please, is there anything I can do for you?"

King Thorin half turned towards her, his gaze lingering on her for a few moments, "Balin is always going on about those honey buns." He replied, his voice rumbling throughout the room.

Ora instantly grinned, "Of course! I'll make you a dozen! No, two-dozen, even three-"

King Thorin raised his hand and she instantly silenced, but she was still grinning, a light blush creeping onto her cheeks.

"Get some rest." Was all he said. And then he was gone.

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_Ohhhhhh_

_So some Thorin / Ora interaction going on there!_

_I didn't really know how this would go down. But I didn't imagine Thorin would be the type to just leave her struggling like that, especially when he has respect for her!_

_I'm so sorry it's late. But I will be focusing on this story a bit more. But I've just been super busy recently…_

_Please let me know what you think of this story so far! You're reviews mean the world to me!_

_Thank you to all those who have already favourited and followed!_

_Love you all! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_


	7. Chapter 6

"He did what?!" When Ava spoke she sprayed strawberry tart all over the kitchen floor.

It was the following morning, and Ava had taken a leisurely stroll down to the market to see what food she could scrounge off Ora. Little did she knew she would be burdened with the biggest gossip Erebor would ever know, and she was sworn to secrecy by a kitchen knife wielding Ora.

Ava knew better to challenge her - no that she would, they were best friends after all - she knew what Ora was capable to when she wanted to. But they were like sisters, so a promise was a promise.

"You cannot tell, Ava!" Ora snapped back, obviously stressed.

"Well, you have to make him the buns!"

"I am! Keep your voice down!"

"Oh, Mahal... Ora..."

"Why is it always me?" Ora whined, more to herself than her useless friend. Ava just sat there like a lemon.

"I wonder what else you could get him to do..." Ava mumbled, but quickly shut up when she saw the look of absolute horror Ora's face, "I mean hypothetically, of course!"

"Ava! He is our king! _Our king_! Oh, Mahal, he's _**the**__ king_!" She was tempted to throw herself into the hot oven right then and there, but she reframed herself from doing so, and instead hit herself in the face with a wood spoon a few times.

"And you told him about the paint?"

"Yes."

"And he said nothing?"

"Nothing at all! Just brushed it off with a nod!" She'd told Ava everything, everything except the king telling her he had trouble sleeping nowadays. That seemed far too personal to share. "Ava, you cannot tell anyone. Not even Uli, and _especially_ not Marg."

Ava huffed, "I wouldn't tell Marg, but Uli might be able to help."

"Help with what?"

"The situation," Ava slipped off her seat and came to stand in front of Ora, grasping the bakers shoulders.

"There is no situation," Ora hissed, "We're not doing anything about it, Ava. I'm going to give him his buns, and that it that."

"And then what?"

Ora gave Ava a strangled look, "What do you mean '_and then what_?'"

"What are you going to do after?"

"Nothing. I'm going to pretend it never happened. Maybe even lay low for awhile, keep myself out of trouble."

Ava snorted, "You don't _find_ trouble, Ora, you seem to _cause_ it."

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Ora used her lunch break to take the buns up to the Royal Halls, arms carefully cradling a basket while Ava traipsed along behind, and not being so careful with her own basket.

"I've never been here before, is this the right way?" Ora asked, hesitating mid walk and looking around.

Ava blinked at her for a moment, "I-I don't know, I was following you."

Just as the words left her mouth a familiar figure turned the corner. Ora grinned, bobbing on the balls of her feet.

"Lord Dwalin!" She called, smiling brightly. It may not have been the most appropriate greeting, but the elder Dwarf didn't seem to bat an eyelid. Instead, he changed direction and headed towards them.

"Good afternoon, Ora." He nodded towards her, "Ava," He greeted also. Ora heard Ava squeak from behind her. "How are you faring?" His attention was back to Ora.

"Marvellous, my Lor-"

"Just Dwalin, will do, lass."

Ora flustered, "Dwalin, I'm supposed to be taking these up to, erm, King Thorin." She and Ava held out the baskets of buns towards Dwalin, a faint waft of sweet honey filled his nostrils, "But we don't know where we're going." Ora finished, tucking her basket back under her arm.

"Why are you taking those to the king?" Asked Dwalin, peering at her slightly.

"He asked for them." Ava piped up.

Dwalin looked at them long and hard, obviously deciding on a route to take, "Very well," He finally said, straightening up, "I'll take them to him."

Ava and Ora grinned broadly, "Thank you so much." Ora placed her basket into one of Dwalin's outstretched hands, and Ava did the same in the other. Dwalin seemed to have no issue carrying two baskets, even when the two Dwarrowdams struggled with one each.

"Thank you!" Ora called again when Dwalin was about to turn down another hall. He simply nodded and disappeared.

"Well, that was easy." Ava said with a relaxed sigh.

Ora turned to say something in return but stopped dead.

"You jinxed it." She muttered to Ava as she turned also, groaning as she spotted Fraugh the Foul slithering towards them.

"Well, well ,well, look what the cat dragged in." Her voice was full of glee, probably because she found them in an area they weren't supposed to be.

"Before you start, Fraugh," Ora stepped up, "We were given permission to be here."

"By _who_?" Fraugh folded her hairy arms over her broad chest.

Ora opened her mouth to make something up when Ava squeaked out, "The king!"

"-sss guards! The kings guards! They asked us to deliver them some lunch." Ora quickly finished, trying not to make it too obvious that she was pinching Ava's arm.

Thankfully, Fraugh was as dim as a troll, and didn't seem to even notice the strain in Ora's tone. All in all, that story was far more believable than saying 'oh, the king asked for some buns as a thank you for carrying round a large sack of flour'.

"The kings guards? Where's the food then?" She gestured towards the pairs empty hands.

"Dwalin just took it off us." Ora replied, easing slightly as that _wasn't_ a lie.

"Oh." Fraugh just blinked at them, obviously unsure of what to say. But soon enough her face turned back into a sneer and she drew breath to have another poke at them, but Ora was faster and quickly grabbed Ava's hand and dragged her away.

"Bye, Fraugh!" Ora called.

Ava grunted, "The Foul," under her breath.

Once outside the Kings Halls they went their separate ways.

"I'll see you at dinner!" Ava called as she disappeared into the sea of miners finishing for their lunch.

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Ora hung around the bakery for a long while after she'd finished, flicking through her new recipe book and noting down recipes she wished to try and their ingredients. A few were a little bizarre, like coffee cake. Why would someone put coffee in a cake? But nevertheless she noted that down, along with orange bread, blueberry biscuits and prune crumble.

She noted down some of the more normal recipes too, such as pumpkin pie and strawberry shortbread.

Once she thought her list was quite enough she folded up the piece of parchment and slipped it into her dress pocket before slowly making her way up to the dining hall.

She wasn't surprised to find Ava already there, with Uli on her left and Giora sitting across from her. She grabbed a plate full of food and headed in their direction, as soon as her brother saw her approached he scooted up to make room for her. Not that it did much, Giora was a big Dwarf.

"Where have you been?" Ava asked through a mouthful of bread.

"I've been noting down recipes, want to see them?" She'd been hoping to get Ava's opinion on the matter, her being a self proclaimed food fanatic, specialising in desserts and sweets.

Ava nodded eagerly and extended her hand across the table to take the note Ora passed her. When Ora looked at Ava's face to read what she was thinking she caught sight of the Royal table over her left shoulder, and to her absolute horror the king was looking right at her. His piercing blue eyes hovering in her direction. He looked deep in thought again, so she tried to brush it off as the fact she just so happened to be in his eye line.

But then he acknowledged her, tilting his head towards her in a greeting.

Ora instinctively looked behind her, assuming that he was looking at someone else around her. But no, no one else was looking in the direction of the king. She turned back around and offered him a somewhat goofy smile and an awkward nod.

King Thorin smiled.

Smiled. _Smiled_. **Smiled**.

Nearly anyway, his mouth twitched just slightly from under his beard and then he turned away, leaving Ora hot faced and not entirely sure what to do with herself.

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That night she returned to her room exhausted - physically and emotionally. During supper, Giora had informed Ava of something every exciting (big mistake), there was a roosting of baby owls on one of the higher level balconies and they just _had_ to see it for themselves.

Ava was nearly one hundred and fifty five years old, and Ora was positive that she must have seen an owl in all her years. But no, Ava had to see this exciting revolution for herself. Which meant Ora had to come too, to be the minder for her own elder brother and best friend.

Of course, Giora had failed to mention the _fun_ part. That being that there nest was not on a balcony at all, but on a ledge _near_ the balcony on the side of the mountain.

Not so great.

Ora was made to stand watch while her best friend and brother abseiled down the mountain to potentially fall to their deaths. Of course, neither of them fell. Dwarves were glued to the stone like they were part of it and rocky terrain was not much of a problem to either Ava or Giora. But that didn't mean Ora wasn't left behind to stress over the situation.

"You should have seen them, Ora!" Ava had exclaimed once Ora hauled her back over the side of the balcony, "They were so cute!"

"Since when were _either_ of you fond of baby animals?"

"I like them when they're fluffy."

Ora just huffed and stomped away, leaving two snickering Dwarves in her wake.

Never would one guess she was the youngest of the trio.

Nevertheless, when she returned to her room she was drained. She just wanted to fling herself on her bed and snuggle deep within the covers in which she'd never return. But when she turned to do such a thing she paused, a light frown on her face.

Sitting neatly atop her bed was a rather trimly wrapped package.

"Giora!" She yelled, taking a few steps towards the parcel.

Of course her brother came flying through the door a few moments later, "What is it?"

"Did either you, ma, or pa get me something?"

Giora frowned, "No, not that I know of?" He noticed the parcel too.

"Go ask."

He did, being as curious as she was, and probably wondering why she got a present and he didn't. When he returned he found Ora on the bed next to the parcel, gently squeezing it. When she saw him re-enter the room she raised her brow at him, questioningly.

"No, not from them. Ma said some Dwarf dropped it off for you, she doesn't know who, but he said you ordered it."

Ora blinked a few times, "Did I?" She couldn't remember ordering anything, especially nothing that felt like clothing.

"What is it?"

"I don't know, I haven't opened it yet."

"Well, go on then!"

"It can't be mine."

Giora came over to sit on the bed beside her, and pulled the package onto his lap to examine it further. He gave it a shake, a squeeze, and then peered at it, rolling it around in his hands, "It has your name on it."

Ora squinted at the magnificent hand writing on the front, her name in beautiful, loopy italics, "No one I know has that sort of handwriting."

"Maybe you have an admirer," Giora teased, pushing the package back towards his sister, "For the love of Mahal just open the thing."

Slowly Ora pulled at the thick, brown paper, gently unwrapping the parcel. When she saw a flicker of yellow her heart began to hammer in her chest, and unable to hold in her excitement anymore she pulled apart the wrapping, gasping at the pretty yellow dress that now lay in her lap.

"Wow..." Giora muttered, reaching for the untainted fabric.

Ora quickly slapped his hands away, afraid he'd ruin it by his touch alone. This was without a doubt the fanciest thing she now owned, let alone the most expensive.

"It's that yellow dress from the market." She breathed, gently letting her fingers graze over the fabric, "Who-How-When?" Questions flooded her head so fast her brain began to hurt, and she quickly resorted to massaging her temples.

"The one you liked?" Giora clarified and Ora nodded, "But how?"

"I have no idea. I didn't even realise anyone was paying attention to us, let alone saw me take a liking to this dress." She stood, taking hold of the shoulders of the dress and holding it up against her. The soft, expensive fabric pooled to the floor in delicate waves. The intricate silver detailing shimmered and the light gems danced in the faint candle light. "Is there a note?"

Giora instantly went rummaging through the abandoned packaging while Ora ran her fingers over the small pearls down the front of the dress.

"There's nothing."

"Then who do I thank?"

Giora shrugged, and then his eyes widened, "I think we need an expert."

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Marg circled the gown which was now neatly hanging over a makeshift mannequin. Every so often she'd touch a few of the detailing, or run her fingers over and through the soft fabric.

Giora, Ora and Ava sat patiently waiting on the bed, watching her work. It was the morning after the gift appeared on Ora's bed, and it was first thing when Giora and Ora came knocking on Marg's front door asking for her help. Ava had been hovering around, so Ora dragged her along.

"And you have no idea who it's from?" Marg asked, looking at them all in turn. Of course though, her eyes lingered on Giora longer than the others.

"No idea, there was no note and you've seen the hand writing, I don't know anyone who can write like that. The weirdest part is that it the exact dress I fancied at the market in _Dale. _It is either an unbelievable coincidence or someone followed us. But why?"

"Secret admirer." Ava exclaimed, looking somewhat excited.

Ora rolled her eyes and Giora added, "That's what I said."

"What's the point of a secret admirer?" Marg replied, "If you like someone, just go for it!"

Ora could have sworn she caught Marg shoot a glare in the direction of Giora, who looked totally unfazed.

"I would just like to know who it is, so maybe I would be able to thank them." Ora sighed.

"It wouldn't be a secret if you _knew_."

"Why does it _have_ to be a secret?" Ora felt almost guilty, like she was missing something important and was now feeling bad about it. She knew she wouldn't be about to wholly accept this gift without at least a thank you to the person who gave it to her.

"I totally agree with Ora, I think we should find out who gave this to her. Do you know anything of the Dwarf who delivered it?" Marg began examining the dress all over again, looking for clues.

"No. Do you think it might be him?" Ora asked, her brow furred slightly.

"Of course not," Marg straightened up, peering at all three of them on the bed like they were children, "If there's one thing I knew about _**secret**_ admirers is that they wouldn't deliver the package themselves."

"How do you know that?" Asked Ava, picking her nose.

"Don't flick that." Ora scowled.

"I know that because otherwise he would have left a note too. Why would he deliver something himself and then not leave a note? No, he was just the deliverer," Marg took another long look at the dress, "My guess is that the actual giver is someone of high status... Money," She flicked the cuff of the dress in her hand, "Definitely money. This is expensive." Marg turned and winked at Ora, who was pink faced.

Ora knew she could trust Marg, she came from a Noble family; she came from a family that use to have a lot of wealth. She knew her dresses, she knew how to style her hair, and she certainly knew about admirers. Ora, however, was totally naive and the male species was a completely alien to her. Other than Giora, of course, but he didn't count.

"He obviously doesn't want to reveal his identity yet," continued Marg, circling the dress.

"Why?"

Marg paused, "There must be a genuine reason why he feels he must keep himself a secret. Maybe he doesn't know how you'll react if you found out who he was? Maybe he thinks it'll scare you away."

"Ohhh! A felon!" Ava looked far too excited about that, and Ora gaped at her friend with a look of complete horror and she let out a strained squeak.

Giora roared with laughter, his entire being shaking and causing the bed to quake, "Only you, Ora, would have a convict in the pursuit for your hand."

The look of horror on Ora's face only grew, and before long all three of her companions were in hysterical laughter.

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_Another chapter for you my lovelies!_

_All your reviews have been so wonderful! So I had to update!_

_I've had a few comments about the confusion of the names, if you see Wren or Phen written in any of the previous chapters PLEASE let me know where so I can change them. I thought I edited them all out! Thank you!_

_Thank you to everyone who has followed, favourited and reviewed! Your comments mean the world to me! So please keep them coming and let me know what you think of the chapter!_

_Just to let you all know, I've started an original story (relatively *slaps self*) on wattpad about a vampires. I KNOW WHO AM I_

_in my defence, I don't like Twilight (potterhead ftw) but I imagined this after watching being human and basically imagined the vampire in my story to look like aidan turner eh eh eh_

_It's not about mitchell though, the main guy it in just looks like aidan (in my head anyway). but it's a little bit naughty and rude and totally and utterly shameful that I've been captured into the whirlpool of vampire fanfics_

_I'm a bad human_

_it's not some sappy, soft hormonal crap though. It's quite dark_

_my wattpad name is ohjaayox or something idek_

_anyway_

_Love you all! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_


	8. Chapter 7

When Marg walked she held poise and authority, with her sharp eyes and air of sophistication around her. Her hair was thick and always tied neatly back in an ever changing variety of braids and styles. Her face was long, along with her nose, and her eyes were an almond shape. In the way of facial hair she sported a small, wispy beard a few shades lighter than her chocolate hair colour.

To contradict popular believe, not all females Dwarves had beard - of course, a lot did - but it wasn't shunned or frowned upon if a Dwarrowdam didn't, unlike if a male Dwarf didn't. Some Dwarves had their preferences, but usually it didn't matter. In fact, a lot of female warriors would cut or trim their beards (if they had them) off because it was get in the way of their fighting.

Ora, for instance, had very fair, sparse, short side burns but she made sure to keep them away. Being a baker it was hardly hygienic to have excess facial hair.

Marg scratched her chin in deep thought, her feet moving at their usual brisk pace.

"Ah, Colborn, there you are." Marg's voice radiated through the royal kitchen she just entered and she caught the attention of one of the king's personal guards. Colborn was tall for a Dwarf at just over five foot, with thick, red, neatly kept hair and a matching beard that was braided finely down the front. His eyes were a light brown and always bright. He was a happy Dwarf, a noble and a bachelor. Marg had an inkling.

"Yes, my dear." He acknowledged her, quickly removing his hand out the basket of buns we was searching through.

"I have a question to ask you." Marg closed the distance between herself and him, the top of her hair barely reaching his chin.

"Oh?" He looked a little worried, which only fuelled Marges suspicions.

"You know Ora, right?"

Colborn smiled, "Aye, blonde one with those green eyes, I know her. Very striking. I knew her eldest brother, too." His smile faltered, and Marg briefly wondered how impressionable Jora must have been to touch so many people.

"You don't happen to desire to court her, do you?" Marg wasn't one to beat around the bush, after all, there was work to be done.

Colborn frowned in confusion, "No, why? Is she interested?" His eyes sparkled a little.

Marg mirrored his frown, "Are you?"

Colborn shifted his feet. For a warrior he wasn't as confident as some of the others. "I might be. But there sounds as though there's a little competition."

Marg sighed. "We don't know who though, so I wouldn't worry too much."

"She doesn't know who's trying to court her?"

"Aye. She got an unsigned gift."

Colborn stroked his long beard, "Was it an intended act of courtship, or just a gift?"

"It was a gown," Marg replied, popping her hip out and resting her hand on it, "A fancy one too, not something you'd necessarily by for just a friend."

Colborn's eyebrows rose a notch, "How strange."

"Well," Marg turned to leave, "Let me know if you hear anything, maybe from one of the guards or something."

"Aye, I will."

"Thank you."

With that Marg left the kitchens, feeling disappointed and annoyed. She was so sure it was him. She'd already interrogated a hand full of Dwarves and more and more of the facts pointed to Colborn, even one of his fellow guards suggested him, apparently he'd mentioned taking a liking to Ora.

But it wasn't him. But who?

She thought about what Giora had said about it maybe being a criminal, but unfortunately she didn't know any of them. She scratched her chin again, turning a corner and heading towards the royal chambers to start her days work.

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"Ora?"

Ora looked up to find her grandmother hovering nervously in the doorway to their stall, her hands knotted into her apron tightly.

The blonde raised her brows questionably, straightening up from rolling out some pastry. "Yes?"

"There's two visitors here to see you." Poe grinned, but still looked worried. It was so very unlike Poe to be nervous about something.

Feeling her grandmothers mood radiated onto her, Ora slowly paced the rolling pin she was using down and exited through the door Poe had just vacated.

"Oh, my princes!" Ora instantly dropped into a curtsy before the two brothers, which did an appalling job of covering her tripping over her own dress in surprise. Her cheeks instantly heated up in embarrassment. "G-good afternoon."

The brothers seemed unfazed by this, and simply grinned back at her. "Good afternoon, to you too. We have come to propose a proposition to you." Exclaimed Fili, crystal eyes twinkling at her.

Ora looked a mixture between confused and worried, "Oh?" The two princes antics were rather infamous, with their pranks and fooling around. In fact, Ora and Ava would find it quite funny, especially when watching the pair spar from the far side of the training yard. But right now, she was a little nervous to what this proposition might entail. She didn't want to get into anymore trouble, with anyone - let alone more royalty.

"We are having a small banquet," Continued Kili, eyeing up one of the honey buns. "And we were wondering if you'd be able to cater the desserts."

Ora's mouth dropped to the floor, "B-B-B-My princes, d-do you not have your own cooks for that?"

"Aye, we do." Nodded Fili, "But a little birdie tells us the king is rather fond on your baking."

If Ora's face was red before, it was on fire now, and she could feel her grandmothers gaze settled on the back of her head. Of course, she'd never told her about her encounter with the king.

"Well, of course! W-We'd be honoured!"

The princes grinned in unison. "Great." Replied Fili, "I'm sure twenty of each should suffice?"

Ora blinked. Her head was swimming and her stomach was churning nervously. Never had she had such a proposal. She'd been honoured when some of the Dwarves had asked her to bake for birthdays or weddings, but no one of any real ranking. But, now, the two princes had personally come to speak to her about this. It was truly over whelming, and she was definitely feeling the effects of it. Things like this didn't happen to Dwarves like her.

"Of course! Thank you, thank you so much."

Kili's grin broadened, and he leant in and quickly whispered something to his brother who grinned back. She didn't hear what they said, but the way their eyes sparkled at her made her ears burn.

"Well, that's settled then," Kili clapped his hands together, "Will you be able to deliver them by this Friday?"

Ora nodded frantically, "Of course, my princes." She offered them another sloppy curtsy.

Poe waited for the two brother to be out of ear shot before she advanced on Ora. "The king likes your baking?!" She was oozing excitement, but her face looked concerned and a little annoyed, "And you didn't tell me? When was this?"

Ora thought quickly. If she told her grandmother the truth about the flour she'd get a clubbing around the ears, once for leaving Erebor without a companion, and once for letting the king carry her burden. Also, Giora would probably get a clubbing too.

Ora sighed, she was definitely no longer a child, but she still got treated like one sometimes by her elders.

"One of his guards came by whilst you were on lunch the other day," it killed her to lie to her grandmother, but she had no other choice, "I assume the king had one of the many he brought. Honestly, I had no idea until now."

Poe's round face softened, and she clapped Ora on the shoulder happily before heading back towards the customers. Ora let out a deep breath and ventured back into the kitchen. She was unable to concentrate that afternoon, she wasn't sure if she wanted to pop with excitement or keel over with nerves. Such a big responsibility now lay on her shoulders, she obviously didn't want to mess up this proposal. Imagine if she burnt the goods, or the milk was off, or-

No. She could do this. She did this everyday without a problem, and besides, she'd already baked for the king before.

_But not his company. _

Her mind slipped into a daydream after that, her head filling with hundred of hundreds of different scenarios from dropping the trays to having another dragon attack.

She didn't even notice Ava come sashaying into the room with a plate full of baked goods until she felt something hit her on the back of the head. She turned around sharply, glaring at her friend who just grinning mischievously at her.

Ora's eyes travelled to the bun that had hit her head. "Do you mind?" She swooped down and threw it back at her friend.

"Poe told me." Ava's eyes glinted, "This is amazing news!"

"No, it's awful."

Ava frowned, "What?"

"I'm going to mess this up, Ava. I always do. Oh, Mahal spare me."

Ava shook her head and snickered, "This is what you do, Ora. You bake. You're a baker and a ruddy good one at that. There is no way you can mess this up."

"But what if I _do_?"

"But what if you _don't_?" Ava pushed her plate aside and stood up, making her way over to her friend to grip Ora by the shoulders. "It will be fine. I promise, I can help."

"Definitely not."

Ava shrugged, but still grinned. "Fine then, but I'll stand watch then and make sure nothing happens. I will be quality control manager."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Ora let out a sigh of relief, glad to hear Ava had her back. "Thank you."

Ava just shrugged again, happily. "Any news on your _boyfriend_?"

Ora rolled her eyes and turned away to start cleaning up the kitchen. "No."

"Well, apparently Marg is making headway."

"Oh?"

"Yes, not in the right direction though," Ava laughed, "Turns out Colborn was interested in you too, apparently he hasn't taken the idea of competition too lightly."

"Colborn?" Ora flushed, "Really?"

Ava eyed her up, her face slipping from confusion to excitement, "Do you like him?"

Ora quickly ducked away from her friends penetrating gaze, "I don't know, I don't know him really. But he's handsome, and a great warrior."

Ava stayed silent. Too silent.

Ora turned to her, brow raised, "What?"

Ava looked concerned, "Personally, I would never go for a warrior."

Ora looked taken aback, "You wouldn't?" She didn't understand bearing in mind Ava was a warrior herself. Sure, she'd never seen battle, but she could wield a sword as good as anyone.

Ava shook her head, "I want a husband who stands by my side, and doesn't risk his life. I couldn't imagine the pain to lose the one I love." Something flickered in her eyes and Ora's eyes softened.

"You should know as good as anyone that there is a risk in every profession." She was referring to Ava's father dying in the mines. It could have easily been a low blow, but it wasn't intended that way, and Ava new that.

"I know, but if there was anyway to lower that risk I would take it."

There was a foreign sadness in Ava's eyes, and Ora decided to brighten the subject.

"So what profession would you rather your husband pursue?" She turned back to cleaning up the kitchen.

Ava grinned dreamily, "Maybe a cook." It was a well known fact Ava was a tragedy in the kitchen. "I'd like someone who could cook good food for me."

Ora snorted, "Cook? Very dangerous profession. He might accidently get stuck in the oven."

Ava laughed and threw another piece of bun at her friend, "Oh, spare me!"

Ora laughed and quickly dodged the dessert, "Honest, I've shut my fingers in the oven door once."

"Yes, but that's _you_."

Ora threw the piece of bun back at her, and hit her right in the eye. She just laughed while her friend withered in pain.

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"So what are you going to bake?" Uli asked, leaning over the dinner table, her hair missing the meat juices on her plate by sheer millimetres.

"Well," Ora quickly leant forward and scooped her hair away from the residue. "I'm actually thinking about adding one of my new recipes in as well."

"Really? Will Poe allow that?"

Ora was silent for a moment, eyes shifting nervously, "Maybe."

Ava hooted a laugh, "You're not going to tell her, are you?"

Ora shrugged, "I'm the one baking them. Does she need to know?"

"You sneaky, sneaker you." Ava elbowed Ora, causing her to nearly drop her spoon full of stew. Ora shoved her back.

"What one are you going to make?" Uli asked around a mouth full of her own dinner.

In response, Ora turned expectantly to Ava who cleared her throat and straightened up as if she was about to take on a great speech.

"Well," She began, sharing glances between Ora and Uli as if addressing them formally, "with my vast knowledge of food, and my expert pallet, I have written a list of my opinions on the sort list of desserts Ora gave me the other day." She then begun to root around in her dress pocket, completely ignoring the giggling coming from her two friends.

"You've been carrying that around this whole time?" Uli asked as Ava pulled out a folded piece of parchment and held it out before her.

Ava ignored her and cleared her throat once more, smirking when Ora erupted into laughter. "The first to catch my eye was coffee cake," her voice was comical, and she sounded like she was mocking an old professor or scribe, "'coffee cake?!' I heard you say - yes! Coffee cake!"

Ora and Uli were in uncontrollable hysterics by now, Ora so much now she was at the stage no noise was coming from her, but her whole body shook as she silently laughed.

"An interesting idea, but one I would like to try." She gave Ora a pointed look, but Ora was beyond the brink of no return with her hysterical laughing.

"Second! Was orange bread..." She managed to stay serious as she comically, and dramatically gagged and wretched, "Uck! Far too healthy. Moving on! Blueberry biscuits - I'm not sure on the idea of 'biscuits' but maybe if they were thick and chewy, oh! And crumbly... mmm..."

Ora excused herself, practically falling backwards off her bench and nearly doubling over as she tried to stand.

"Where are you going? I haven't finished." Ava mocked offensive, but struggled to hold composer as Ora fell about, clutching her sides and still laughing. Tears of joy peaking in the corner of her eyes.

"Bathroom - can't - toilet - breath!" She spluttered through a mixture of gasps and laughter, before staggering away, nursing her stitch as she wondered towards the nearest communal bathrooms.

She'd just left the Dining Hall, and had closed her eyes for a second to wipe her eyes when she, quite literally, bumped into someone.

"Woops!" She giggled, still buzzing from her laughing fit. "Sorry!" She choked slightly when she realised just who she'd bumped into, and instantly she turned bright red. "Hi."

Colborn grinned at her, "Good evening, Ora." Then he frowned, eyes moving over her face, "Have you been crying?"

Ora blinked a few times, completely embarrassed, "Oh! No - well, yes. Ava was making me laugh, and well..."

Colborn cracked a smile from under his flame red beard, "Say no more, I know what she's like."

Ora gazed up at him for a few moment, totally unaware that's he'd began to waffle away about something that happened at the training yard earlier that day. Of course, Ava had been behind the little incident, but Ora wasn't listening to him.

His beard was braided neatly down the front, and held at the bottom with a large, detailed silver clasp. His long hair was loose around him, but the front was kept out of his youthful face with a similar beads either side of his face. His eyes were a little darker than gold, nearly like molten brass, and twinkled with joy when he spoke about something he liked.

From what Ora knew, he was actually a little younger than her. Ora was one hundred and forty-seven, and she remembered once Ava mentioning Colborn to be twenty years her junior, which would make him eight years Ora's junior.

_No matter_... Ora thought.

Just as that thought floated through her mind, however, someone called her name.

"Ora."

The Dwarrowdam in question nearly jumped from her skin, and she and Colborn both turned towards Dwalin who was striding his way over to them.

Colborn took a step back from Ora, "Lord Dwalin." He greeted respectfully, adding a bow as he did so.

Dwalin peered down at him, "who are you?" He snapped.

Ora's eyebrows rose an inch in surprise as his tone, and Colborn seemed too taken aback to speak at first, so she did instead. "This is Colborn, son of Sianborn. He's one of your guards…"

Dwalin barely spared her a glanced and puffed out his chest towards Colborn like an angry bird. There was a long minute of awkward silence, where Ora's worried gaze flickered in confusion between a concerned, and somewhat intimidated Colborn and a clench jawed Dwalin.

"You still here, lad?" Dwalin snapped eventually. Instantly, Colborn spluttered out a sequence of apologies and muttered a goodbye before departing.

Ora, for a split second, completely forgot who Dwalin was and before she could stop herself she barked at him, "That was rather unnecessary and rude, don't you think?" Then she slapped her hand over her mouth.

Dwalin, however, didn't seem to take interest in her tone, and instead he advanced on her for a different matter.

"Seems a little spineless for a suitor, don't you think?"

Ora's face heated up in less than a second, "I don't think that is a matter open for discussion, especially not one to speak about with a mere acquaintance." Her defensiveness prickled slightly, and she was annoyed (and confused) that Lord Dwalin was bust in on her affairs like that, especially so boldly. She knew he was a friend of her fathers and had apparently first known her when she was just a babe, so maybe he was looking out for her like a second set of eyes, but she saw no reason to how and why that gave him the authority to actually _dictate_ her life.

Dwalin simply ignored her, instead staring still in the direction Colborn had just left.

"I just wanted to check how those desserts were going." He said eventually, stunning Ora even further.

Ora flustered for a long moment, huffing and puffing under her breath. How her mood had flipped from soring like a cloud to falling like a stone she didn't know.

"Fine." She tried to hold her tone, but she still snapped like a twig.

Dwalin almost smiled at her, "That's what I like about you, lass." He began, but letting his eyes drift past her head and back into the Dining Hall, "You have a sharp tongue, and although you do try you cannot hold it even when necessary. I reckon, if you wanted to, you could put anyone in their place." His eyes lingered beyond her head for a few long moments, and Ora turned to see what he was looking at.

It was the Head Table, where the King and his company were seated, her gaze gravitated towards Thorin, and may have lingered for long enough for him to look up. But she quickly looked away before he caught her. How embarrassing! She was so lost in her train of thought and too caught up listening to Dwalin she hadn't meant her gaze to loiter for so long. She shouldn't forget that he was her King, and even though he may he done her a favour, that didn't mean they were even acquaintances, let alone civil.

"Do you like the dress?"

That question sent her tumbling back to Erebor, and her head instantly snapped up from picking at the hem of her sleeve.

Her large, green eyes searched Dwalin's indifferent face.

"You know who sent it?"

Dwalin rolled his neck. "I might do."

"Who? Oh, for the love of Mahal, tell me who."

Dwalin clapped her on the shoulder, and finally broke into a small smile. "All in good time, lass. All in good time." He turned to leave, but Ora caught his arm.

Her eyes begged him, "Then tell me this one thing; why does he want to remain a secret?"

Dwalin took another step towards her, "Good things come to those who wait."

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_Oot oot oot_

_Hope you like this chapter!_

_I don't really know how I feel about it ):_

_Thank you to all those who have reviewed, followed and favourited!_

_Please let me know what you think of this chapter, and the story so far! Please please pleaaseeeeee_

_Love you all!_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_


	9. Chapter 8

"Weren't you asked to do twenty of each?"

"Yes."

"And how many are there?"

"About thirty-five."

"And how many of the new recipes did you add in there as well?"

Ora's eyes shifted nervously to the door where her grandmother was watching the stall no that much further beyond. "All of them."

"Even the orange bread?" Ava reached for a cherry tart, but Ora quickly slapped her hand away.

"Even the orange bread. It tastes all right, you know?"

"No, I don't know unless you let me try it." Ava nursed her wounded hand.

It was then that Giora and Marg arrived, and Giora's sudden booming voice made the on edge Ora jump and scowl.

"Someone's highly strung today." Giora jested, catching his little sisters fussing and mumbling.

"This isn't a joke, Giora." Ora snapped in response, and not her usual, banter tone that she usually took with her brother. No, this time she actually snapped at him. It was the day of the king's dinner, and they had been instructed to bring the desserts up late in the afternoon and leave them in an adjoining room to the king's personal dining hall, then, when summoned, they were to bring them in and leave them on a side table in waves, and stocking up when necessary. This way they stayed fresh.

Ora knew it made sense, but it also meant she would have to be present nearly at all times, which she wasn't so happy about. She didn't want to be in the king's company any more than she needed too. She had decided she was embarrassed in his presence, because of her past encounters with him she hated to think what he thought of her, she felt humiliated. And surprisingly vulnerable for some reason, why though, she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Nevertheless, she didn't like the feeling.

Ora knotted her hands into her apron, "Okay, Giora; can you take that large basket and that medium one for me, please? No, not that one, the other one – yes that one. Marg, could you take that basket there, and Ava, could you take those smaller two, please." Ora directed her little helpers as necessary.

Once everyone was balancing at least one basket (Ora had a medium sized on her shoulder and a smaller one under her arm), they set off from the little bakery in the heart of the market, and up towards the higher floors – the royal wings.

"I've never been here before." Muttered Ava as they passed some particularly haughty looking Dwarrowdams.

"I don't think any of us have." Replied Ora, trying to ignore the looks she was receiving.

"I have." Chimed Marg.

"Well, I think everyone looks like they have a lemon in their mouth and a carrot up their bottom." Ora said, before snickering along with Giora and Ava, although, Marg wasn't as impressed.

"I don't want to touch anything, I think I'll make it dirty." Ava commented. They'd just ascended another flight of steps, and it was apparent they were no longer in the middle classed portion of Erebor. The usual stone walls that lined the lower floors looked so dull compared to these that were decorated in the same fashion as the king's hall; with the lacings, and veins of gold, silver, and gems bleeding through the cracks and crevices of the stone.

"Probably because you will, Ava." Chuckled Giora. Ava kicked him in the back of the knee, and he stumbled slightly, igniting a flame of fear within Ora as she watched the basket he was balancing wobble when he did. Luckily, however, he managed to stable himself and the basket.

"Do you mind?" Ora hissed at them, "I swear to Mahal if you drop even a crumb I will personally _club_ _you_."

Giora snickered again, "That's a little harsh." But by the look on Ora's tight face she totally meant it.

She was beyond nervous. She was nervous that they wouldn't like her baking; she was nervous that her dress wasn't nice enough; or that she wasn't presented well enough, and she was actually nervous to see king Thorin again. She didn't want to mess up, and embarrass herself further in front of him. No way.

She was dressed in her smartest work dress; it was a pleasant, leafy green colour, with dark green lace hems and cuffs. She had a brand new, pristine white apron on too. She actually debated for a moment whether or not she should wear her yellow dress, she was desperate to wear it, but at the same time she knew it would be totally silly if she did. That wasn't a work dress, it's a fancy gown – definitely not appropriate to handle sticking desserts in.

Her blonde hair was down in soft ringlets, and clipped away from her face by an intricate plat (curtesy of Marg) that dropped down the centre of her back.

Marg was in front, and Ora watched as the briskly paced Darrowdam slowed her steps slightly until she was walking beside her.

"Are you nervous?" She asked.

Ora hesitated, she was brought up in The Wild, having to fight for survival and having many near death experiences. But she was more nervous now than before any battle she'd ever experienced. But why? Why did she want the king's approval so desperately? _Because he's the king, you fool_. There was no other opinion in the whole of Erebor that mattered more.

"Yes." She replied.

Marg smiled reassuringly at her as they climbed yet another flight of steps. "It will be absolutely fine. I promise. If these desserts taste even half as good as they smell then I'm sure you're in for a winner."

Ora let out a deep sigh, her stomach filled to the brim with shuddering butterflies and her heart pounded hard.

"Thank you." She just mustered, because Marg led them to a stop in front of an inappropriately large set of oak and iron doors.

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It was more nerve wracking than she'd originally anticipated. Seated on the table before her were not only members of the royal family (Dain and a few of his kin, along with Dis – the king's sister) but the entire company who had helped reclaim Erebor sat there, each of them munching away on her baked goods.

Ora hovered patiently by the door, eyes shifting from the table where they all sat, to the side table where the desserts were. So far, so good. They seemed to like everything, _that's always a good sign_.

Ora eyed up the diminishing loaf of orange bread, and she made a mental note to tell Ava it was apparently Lord Balin's favourite.

She silently left the room to retrieve another loaf, along with another half a dozen meringues.

She returned, balancing a fancy silver plate in each hand she headed towards the side table to restock. As she was sliding the rest of the mostly eaten orange bread onto the plate with the new one on she heard someone clear their throat behind her.

She jumped slightly and turned.

"Oh! Your majesty." She curtsied awkwardly. Another mental note: practice greeting royalty!

That was a strange thought, never in her life would she have ever imagined to have to practice greeting anyone of high ranking.

"I thought we agreed to simply call me Thorin." Replied the king lowly, his voice rumbling.

"O-Oh yes, sorry, my- I mean, Thorin." She grinned awkwardly at him, but avoided eye contact. "Sorry! Am I in your way?" She went to move away, but when Thorin reached out and touched her arm she jumped and spun round so fast her head swum.

For a moment Thorin just blinked at her, and Ora once again started spluttering her nonsense apologise. This time, something about being nervous.

"Why are you nervous?" He suddenly asked her, instantly halting her rambling.

Ora hesitated, a light blush creeping up on her cheeks. She hadn't mean to say that! In fact, she hadn't meant to say anything to the king at all! Other than the obviously polite small talk, maybe. But now…

"How could I not be? You're the-the king, a-and I'm just a baker. I mean to offensive, of course."

Thorin frowned at her, and instantly Ora gulped, assuming she'd upset or angered him.

"Does that make you any less than I?" He finally asked her.

"Yes." She replied more or less instantly. Of course, there was no hesitation required. The king was undoubtedly the most important Dwarf in the mountain, followed closely by his heirs.

Thorin's eyebrows rose a tad, and he folded his thick arms across his chest. Ora wanted to take a step back, but that would be rude, so instead she found herself leaning away slightly.

"I have heard stories of you fighting Orcs and Goblins, yet you are nervous about baking a few cakes?"

Ora's defences began to prickle. One, she didn't like the mention of her early life in the Wild. Of course, like many she had to fight for her life, even against bandits and creatures so fierce her dreams are still haunted by them. How could he possibly know that sort of information? Had someone told him?

Secondly, _it wasn't just baking a few cakes_.

"Have you ever baked nearly four hundred desserts in a week, your majesty?" Her arms crossed over her chest, nearly mirroring his stance.

"How many times must I tell you? Call me Thorin."

Ora's temper was still ticking, and for some reason the knowledge that the king knew about her life in The Wild upset her, and wasn't settling right in her conscience. That wasn't anyone's business, she was no longer that Dwarf.

"One more, your majesty." Any thought about them actually having a foundation of chivalry beyond baker and king was long gone. He was her king, and right now, she was giving him a rather hard stare.

_Is he smiling?_

Ora blinked at him, her annoyance washing away and her arms slipped back to her side.

"It's interesting," He began, obviously seeing her confusion, "one moment you're like a little nervous hummingbird; delicate and perturbed, and then the next…" Thorin looked her up and down in such away her stomach knotted uneasily, "your warrior comes out." His eyes locked with hers for only a moment before she looked away. "I like your temperament, lass. You stand up for what you believe is right… your heart's in the right place."

Ora just blinked at him, unable to string a sentence together in her head, let alone attempt to verbalise a sound. She just gaped rudely at him as in nodded to her and turned back towards the table.

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"He _likes_ your _temperament_?!"

"What does that even mean?"

"Oh, Ora!"

Ora was lying flat on her bed as her three friends fussed around her. She'd just got back from working at the kings dinner, and of course, she'd immediately gathered the troops and filled them in on the details.

"Did he say anything more to you after that?" Ava's face hovered over her, her eyes sparkling.

Ora shook her head, completely drained. "No," She replied slowly, thinking, "I… I think he said my name just as I was getting ready to leave…"

"What did you do?"

Ora bit her bottom lip, "I pretended I didn't hear him."

Ava erupted into hysterical laughing while Uli and Marg gasped.

"Ora!" Marg scowled, "How could you?!"

"Quite easily, actually. He'd just annoyed me, so I simply pretended he wasn't there."

"But he's the king! Oh, Ora!"

"But I _didn't hear him._" She struggled, "That's not my fault. He should learn to speak up."

"Ora, I think everyone would hear him even if he whispered. His voice radiates."

Ora shrugged again.

"Your stubbornness aside, Ora. Did they like the food?" Uli asked. Uli was the most accepting and least judgemental of the group. She knew full well – along with Ava (although, Ava didn't always have the passiveness that Uli did regarding Ora's temperament) – what Ora could be like, and just accepted her friend the way she was. Ora was undoubtedly the most laid back out of the four of them, one could sit there and throw insults at her for hours and Ora would probably just laugh or shrug it off. But, there are three buttons with Ora you daren't press; _anything_ regarding Jora; her friends; or her life in The Wild. Messing with any three of those topics is a recipe for an angry Ora. She gets defensive about the things closest to her heart, whether they are there for positive or negative reasons.

Ora didn't speak of The Wild, only those who were there knew what really went on in those dark days.

"As far as I know. They ate it all… Oh, Ava, that orange bread went the fastest. Apparently, Balin has a new favourite pudding!"

Ava scowled, and muttered something under her breath that sounded a lot like 'orange bread is barely pudding'.

"I bumped into Colborn today." Chimed Uli, shifting herself to lay on her stomach and rest on a pillow.

Ora's head snapped up in interest, "Oh?"

Marg frowned, "No, Ora."

"What?"

"He's not the sender of that gown, therefore he is not of interest. Let's not get distracted now."

"He is dreamy though, isn't he?" Cooed Uli, stealing Ora's attention back.

"Ooh, just a tad." Ora jested, and the pair giggled.

Marg's frowned deepened, and Ava picked her nose.

"Pick me out a winner, would you, Ava?"

"Stop searching for gold on my bed, you little Goblin!"

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It had been just over a week since the king's dinner, and Ora had pushed the memory of that stressful night towards the far back of her brain.

She hadn't seen the king, either, thankfully. Word had it that he'd had to leave for a few days, something about Orc's being spotted near their borders.

But Ora wasn't worried, he'd faced a dragon, Orcs must be a piece of cake in comparison. So, she was enjoying the luxury of moving through Erebor and not having to worry about embarrassing herself or bumping into him.

However, by the tenth day that luxury was over, and she found out in the worst way possible.

Dinner time was the usual busy noise and hustle and bustle of ever hungry Dwarves, and Ora was just making her way to the centre table with Ava, when someone called her name.

She turned, and looked for the vaguely familiar voice. Having no idea who the voice belonged to she didn't exactly know who to look for. However, eventually she caught sight of someone standing by the main archway, smiling at her. It was Balin.

She blinked at him for a long moment, unsure if it was actually he who was speaking to her, but when he beckoned her closer her stomach dropped.

She turned to Ava. "What do you think this could be about?"

Ava shrugged causally, "Maybe he wants you to bake more orange bread?"

That seemed plausible, so Ora relaxed and smiled back at him, making her way towards him.

"Good evening, Lord Balin." She greeted politely, offering a clumsy curtsy.

"Good evening, lass. Would you mind coming with me?"

Ora's shoulders tenses, and she spared a glance towards Ava who was still waiting patiently for her. "Could I ask what for?"

Balin continued to smile at her, "Nothing to worry about, lass." He then stepped back and offered her his arm, "Please?"

Ora glanced at Ava once again, who was watching her with a confused expression. However, she noted Uli approaching her, so the guilt of abandoning her friend subsided somewhat and she hesitantly looped her arm through Balin's.

"Where are we going?" She asked as the old Dwarf led her up a flight of steps and towards the _scary_ higher floors.

Balin chuckled, but didn't reply.

Up another flight of steps they went, and with every corner and step Ora's nerves ate away at her. But, she knew better than to snap at a Lord, so she just followed his lead.

He led her towards the royal wing and towards the kings dining hall, and that's when she put the brakes on and dug her heels into the stone floor.

"W-What am I doing here?"

Balin chuckled again, "It's a dining hall, lass. What does one usually do in a dining hall?" He pulled on her arm once more, and led her towards the familiar oak door. They stopped outside, and Balin raised his fist to knock three times. He then turned to her, smiled, winked and then left. Leaving Ora staring at the spot he once stood and totally away with the fairies.

So away in fact, she totally missed the door in front of her opening, and the figure standing there.

That was, until, the figure cleared his deep, rumbling throat and snapped Ora back to Erebor so violently she jumped back.

"Your majesty!" Ora curtsied so quickly she nearly fell over.

"You need to practice that." Thorin rumbled, and to her complete surprise he stepped aside, leaving the doorway clear, like one might do if inviting you in.

But Ora knew better, the king definitely wasn't inviting her in, surely?

She just stood there sucking air and blinking. She looked around her, excepting someone else to turn up at any moment and walk in the open door.

"Hurry up, you're letting in a draft."

Ora spluttered, and hurried into the dining room despite her brain protests.

"I'm sorry, your ma-"

"Thorin."

"Pardon?"

"Call me Thorin." Thorin brushed past Ora and headed towards a crystal decanter.

Ora chocked on her own breath for a few moments as she watched him pour wine into two incredibly beautiful glasses.

"Erm, yes. I'm sorry, but I don't understand why I'm here… Thorin." She didn't like saying his name, it made her cringe and wince.

"Are you hungry?"

"Erm, yes."

"Then we're having dinner."

Thorin gestured towards the dining table, and to Ora's absolute horror it was laid out for two.

She was too busy staring to notice Thorin was back in her personal bubble, that is, until he thrust a gorgeous, gem incrusted glass towards her.

Ora stared at it like it was a dead puppy.

"It's just wine, lass."

"I don't want to break the glass, though." Ora looked up from the glass, and accidently got caught in Thorin's eyes. Those eyes so blue she suddenly got an overwhelming feeling that she just wanted to jump in and swim in those deep pools. His thick, raven black hair with the usual streaks of silver cascaded magnificently down past his shoulders, and she had to physically resist the temptation to reach up and touch it.

Those eyes bore penetratingly back at her, "Take it."

And she did, albeit hesitantly. Thorin then walked away towards a set of arm chairs facing the roaring fire.

"I can't help but feel like that doesn't really answer my question, though." Ora slowly followed him, feeling out of place in such a pristine, exquisite room.

Thorin took a seat, and gestured for her to do the same. She did, awkwardly.

"I wanted to thank you, and apologise."

Ora frowned, "you're the king, you have no reason to thank me, and certainly no need to apologise for anything – ever."

"You truly believe that?"

_No_. "Yes." However, her hesitation said it all. She cast her eyes down to the glass she held tightly in her lap, too scared to break it. But she could feel the king's eyes on her.

"I wanted to thank you for your services the other night. You are a very talented baker. I was going to do it on the night, but you pretended not to hear me." Ora's stomach squirmed and heat rose in her cheeks. "And I wanted to apologise for making you feel uncomfortable."

Ora turned to him then, catching him as he took a sip of his wine. "Uncomfortable, your- I mean, Thorin?"

Thorin turned from her. "Aye, you don't like talking about your time in The Wild."

Ora tensed, "No. I don't."

"Why not? From what I've heard, you're very brave."

"If I may be so bold to ask? How have you heard these things exactly?"

Thorin paused for a moment, hesitating mid way to raising the glass to his lips. "I have asked about you."

"Why?" Ora nearly laughed, but she quickly (and badly) caught herself.

Thorin glanced at her. "You've certainly made yourself known over these past few months, lass. You have some very admirable qualities, and I simply wanted to know about their origins. Do you have a problem with that?" He actually sounded sincere, like he was genuinely asking if his inquiries about her bothered her. Of course, it did, but she'd never admit that.

"Of course not, Thorin." She cringed.

Thorin turned his gaze from her again, "Good. You're very unique."

Thorin Oakenshield was infamous for his brash approach to things. He certainly wasn't one to beat around the bush. If he thought something, then he'd say it. In some cases it was very haughty and rude, because he knew all too well no one would dare speak back to him, although he was well respected. And although, Ora admired that approach to life from afar, she definitely didn't like being on this end of it.

"You seem to know a lot about me. How much exactly?"

"Dwalin told me of the night your brother was killed."

Ora flinched, and her breath caught in her throat like a little gasp. She tried to clear her throat and rub the stinging in her nose away, but she knew Thorin's eyes were on her.

"My apologies. I did not mean to touch a sensitive subject to you, I only mean to learn more about you."

"But why?"

Thorin took another sip of wine, and a thin thought passed through Ora's mind suggesting that she do the same. But she didn't, she left her wine untouched.

"Like I said, you have some very admirable qualities, like none I've seen before in a female. You're bravery and loyalty is astonishing."

If Ora wasn't so wound up in that moment in time, she definitely would have blushed. However, she was still processing the thought that the king not only knew about her time in The Wild, but he also knew about her brother's death. Why must he know about those events? Why must he have to know about her past? It's not his business, nor is it anyone's.

"I'm sorry, Thorin." She said, maybe a little too quickly, "But I'm afraid I don't feel comfortable with this topic."

Thorin looked at her once more, she was staring into her wine glass and he nodded.

"Of course."

There was a long paused before he finally spoke, just when Ora was debating trying her wine again.

"Kili tried to bake today."

Ora smiled at that, "Really?" She looked up at him, her mood quickly changing as an image of the young prince rushing round a kitchen floated through her head. "And how did that go?"

Thorin turned to her again, in the fire light it almost looked like he was smiling a little.

"Not well," He admitted with a sigh, "Nearly set the place on fire."

Ora laughed, "Oh, Mahal, did he manage to actually cook anything?"

"Other than his hair?" Ora giggled at that, and she was sure Thorin smiled, but he quickly hid it when he took another sip of wine. "No, but he did make a large pile of charcoal."

Ora giggled again. She was surprised to find that Thorin might actually have a sense of humour, and she found herself liking the way his eyes twinkled slightly when he spoke about his nephew.

She finally took a sip of wine, savouring the way the spices danced and popped on her tongue.

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_Okaaaaaay_

_Another chapter!_

_I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter! Simply because I didn't want the dinner to come across too forward or soon. I hope the reason came across though, but I wanted Ora to stay naïve._

_Anyway_

_Thank you to all those who have followed, favourited and reviewed._

_Please let me know what you think of this chapter!11_

_I love hearing what you all have to say, it means so much to me! MWAH!_

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	10. Chapter 9

Ora found herself actually enjoying the king's company, although she found herself doing most the talking. Whenever she was placed in an awkward situation she'd do this annoying thing that Giora called 'verbal diarrhoea' where she just wouldn't stop talking. However, the king didn't seem to mind actually, he wasn't much of a talker and seemed completely content with Ora chatting away. She was trying to pry stories out of him though, of their quest and how they reclaimed Erebor.

"You do not know the stories?" He asked her, taking another sip of wine. They were at the dinner table by now, having just finished a hefty starter. Ora had never had food like the sort they were being served, and she cherished every mouthful.

"Of course I do." Ora fidgeted in her seat, "But it was be an honour to hear it from you."

Thorin raised his brow a notch, and Ora thought for a second that she may have come across too forward. She was about to sprout apologies but the king beat her to it.

"If you wish." He nodded, and Ora had to subtly hold her chin to stop it from dropping in surprise. "But it's a long one, so maybe for after dinner. For now I'm enjoying your stories."

Ora nodded eagerly, wondering if the wine had gone to her head. She wasn't a lightweight, but that wine was certainly stronger than the below average liquid she usually stomached in the main hall. She briefly wondered if she'd ever be able to eat normal food again, after tasting the amazing cooking she was eating now everything in comparison would be so dull. Although, she was interested to see what the dessert would be.

As the evening progressed her suspicions were confirmed that Thorin never laughed. Occasionally an expression that _might_ pass as a smile graced his features, but his frown lines were far more indented than his smile lines. For some reason Ora found herself wishing he did smile more, or at least attempt to, it would definitely make him more approachable, and less grumpy. She didn't dare think about the fact that the small smile he rarely showed was actually rather handsome.

After the main Ora was so full she could have sworn she'd have to roll home rather than walk, but she was unable to dwell on this issue for long because soon enough dessert came out.

As per, she thanked the serving girl and blinked inquisitively at the dish before her.

"It is something Bombur made up, especially for you." Thorin said, noticing her puzzled expression. Ora raised her brow at him. "I thought you might appreciate it."

She did appreciate it, and in fact she was totally fascinated by the round, white thing that seemed to wobble around her plate. It was like jelly, but a little more dense, and when she put a bit on her spoon and raised it to her mouth she moaned (rather indignantly) at the taste that engulfed her senses. "This is incredible." It wasn't what she was expecting that's for sure. She assumed it would be fruity and light, like jelly. But it wasn't, it was thick, creamy, and tasted strongly of vanilla with a dash of honey. "I love vanilla."

"Oh, aye?"

Ora moaned around another spoonful, half in agreement, and half in appreciation. "Compliments to the chef!" She grinned so broadly her eyes disappeared behind her apple cheeks.

After dinner, there was more wine and Ora was definitely beginning to feel the effects of it. Although she could control herself she was definitely more relaxed now. Which just might be a good thing.

When they retired to the arm chairs by the fire again, she no longer sat awkwardly on the edge but relaxed fully into the plush, soft cushions.

"That was wonderful, thank you so much."

Thorin nodded at her, "It was my pleasure."

Ora blushed. "Although, I will blame you if I am no longer able to eat the food in the dining hall. I fear that meal has changed me. I'm spoilt." She jested, grinning almost playfully at him.

The corners of Thorin's mouth twitched slightly into a smile, "Well, you are welcome to dine with my anytime you like."

Ora nearly choked on her wine, but she covered it up with a polite laugh. Hoping that he'd been joking. _As if the king of Erebor would want a lowly baker to sit at his dinner table on a regular basis! This meal was simply a thanks for my services, and that was all._

That thought saddened her a little for some reason, she'd actually enjoyed the evening.

"Would you tell me of your quest now, please?" She asked. She was desperate to her the story, but she didn't want to show it or appear too pushy. Thankfully, the king nodded, cleared his throat and began the story.

Mahal only knows how much time had passed between the two of them, but the entire time Ora was on the edge of her seat in eager anticipation. She was the most silent she'd been all evening, and she hung onto his every word like it was a lifeline. The kings version was by far the best, not only were his details more exciting and terrifying than she could have ever possibly imagined, but his voice just seemed to make it all that more incredible. His deep, rumbling tone reminded her of rich, dark, velvety chocolate, and she almost found herself getting lost in his words.

He stopped his story just before the Battle of the Five Armies, and by the end she was near tears, of both joy and sadness.

There was a long pause between them, and Ora mulled over her words carefully, but there was one question that was eating her up in desperation to pop out.

"How…" She hesitated, wincing at her lack of self-control, "How is… the gold sickness?"

For a long time Thorin didn't reply, but Ora watched patiently and a little nervously as his jaw twitched slightly. She knew instantly she shouldn't have asked such a question. She had no right to, she was just a baker, and he was the king. _The king_. And –

"Some days are hard, others are easier."

Ora blinked at him for a long moment, unsure if she'd actually heard him correctly. Had he truly just told her that?

"Well…" She had no idea what to say. Usually her friends came to her for advice, or comfort, but this was Thorin Oakenshield. This was the king. Should she say anything? No, of course she shouldn't. But she did anyway. "If you ever need anything, I'm always around… somewhere…" She immediately averted her gaze when she felt his begin to turn towards her from the fire. "I-I mean, I know you wouldn't come to me – obviously! But—"

"Thank you, Ora. I appreciate it."

Ora bit her cheek anxiously. "You're most welcome. Erm…" She paused for a moment, still too nervous to meet his gaze, "It must be getting late by now, I suppose I should be heading home." She flattened her skirts before making a move to stand, and to her surprise Thorin did also.

"I shall walk you back."

"Oh! No, no! Honestly, T-Thorin, it's absolutely fine."

"I insist." He didn't wait for another reply. That was something else Ora had quickly learnt about him, he would only carry a conversation as far as he deemed fit. After that he'd simply stop it, and of course no one would question him. It was apparent no one ever crossed his path and that he wasn't used to people not doing as he said. Like now, the way he simply walked away from her he knew she would undoubtedly follow him. In a way this annoyed her, but at the same time she let it slide. She knew her place.

He held the door open for her, and when they exited the warm room the chilly mountain hit her like a wall of ice. She tried to muffle her shiver.

"Are you cold?"

"No, I'm fine, just a little difference in temperature. But honestly, I'm fine." The anxiety began to build up within her once more. She was once again being a burden to the king, obviously he mustn't want to talk her home, but he was a gentleman, polite, and respectful – like any royalty would be. Although, when she spared a glance up at him, he didn't seem to show any sign of annoyance or dislike in his somewhat relaxed expression.

That was odd, negative expressions graced the king's features far more often than positive. And for him, a relaxed expression was rather a positive one.

"Have you enjoyed this evening?" He suddenly asked, shaking her from her stupor.

"Most certainly, Thorin. It was wonderful, thank you." There was a few minutes silence as they descended a flight of stairs. Ora's suspicions were confirmed, it was undoubtedly late at night. There was not a single soul to be found and the halls were dead silent.

"I assure you," Thorin began slowly, catching Ora's attention once more, "if we are to do this again I will give you more notice."

Ora tripped over her own feet, so much so Thorin reached out and placed a large hand on her shoulder to steady her. She stumbled to a halt, and the king followed suit, looking down on her with his usual indifferent expression. It was almost as though he'd said something completely natural and normal. Whereas to Ora that comment was like a dragon falling on her.

"You truly wish to do this again?" She asked, astonished, "I-I thought you were just being polite…"

Thorin raised a dark eyebrow, "Why would I say it to just be polite?"

"Because you're the king… and I'm just a baker…" It didn't sit right with Ora. She couldn't get her head around why on Middle-Earth Thorin Oakenshield, King Under The Mountain would just to fraternise with _her_. His circle was other royals, blue bloods and nobles…. Not… _Bakers_.

"But you're not _just_ a baker, are you?"

Ora blinked again, her head feeling fuzzy. It was almost as though… No… No way. Her head was trying to tell her something that she just refused to believe or even begin to contemplate, and her thoughts were causing her head to hurt.

"I am." She laughed nervously and shook her head, "I don't understand."

Thorin didn't reply, he simply dipped his head and carried on walking, leaving Ora to faff about for a few moments and chase after him.

This all seemed very bizarre to her. The pieces just didn't seem to fit together. Why would the king want to have dinner with her? Surely, he'd much rather spend his precious free time with those of his own ranking, or at least near to it.

The rest of the walk was silent, the only sound coming round Thorin's heavy boots and the swooshing sound of Ora's skirts.

When they finally arrived at Ora's home, she had no idea what to say.

"Thank you again, so much…" She avoided eye contact as best she could without appearing rude, and her hands knotted tightly in her dress.

Thorin nodded politely at her, "Like I said; next time I will give you more notice. Maybe that way you can wear that dress."

Ora's eyes sprang to his, but they didn't stay there for long. The king smiled at her, a small, but definitely genuine smile before taking his leave.

Ora couldn't even do her usual fussing and spluttering, she turned to a pile of goo right outside her front door, her large green eyes staring after her king.

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"What happened to you last night?"

"Nothing."

"What did Balin want?"

"More orange bread, like you said."

"But you were gone the entire night! I came by later and you still weren't home."

"I, erm, took a detour."

"A detour? _Where_ exactly?"

"To the library." There. The one place Ava wouldn't have looked for her.

"I checked there."

"Oh. We must have just missed each other then." Ora hated lying to Ava. In fact, she wanted to burst into tears right then and there and break down in front of her. She wanted to tell her everything that happened, she wanted to tell her that the king himself had some involvement in the dress.

However, the thought hadn't even occurred to her (okay, maybe once it did. But she quickly banished the idea as nonsense) that it might have been the king himself that had gifted her with the dress. Why would he of, after all? It would be foolish to ever think that he would be interested in her. So much so that a genuine thought about it never even occurred to her. It was just too out of the question.

Ava's silence was a giveaway that she didn't believe a word Ora was saying.

"Are you lying to me?"

"No, Ava. I'm sorry, I'm just tired is all." Ora rubbed her eyes with her wrists. She was extremely tired. After all, she didn't get to bed until nearly early hours of the morning. She had no idea she'd been with the king the entire night, she thought it was merely a few hours…

"Is there a _guy_?"

"No, Ava." Ora repeated, sighing into her pastry mix as she kneaded it together. "I just lost track of time. I've been a little stressed recently."

"With what?"

"_Work_."

Ava hummed in disapproval. "Well then, I have just the ticket to help that!"

Ora groaned, hoping that it wasn't another one of Ava's amazing ideas.

"Well, actually it was Marg's ticket." Okay, there was still hope yet then.

"What's that then?"

"We could take a nice trip to Lake Town."

"Lake Town?" Ora shot Ava a questioning look as she carried the large mixing bowl down the kitchen.

"Yes! Uli's father came back from trading there the other day and he wouldn't stop ranting about this pub there! Apparently their fish pies are to die for!"

Ora squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again in an attempt to wake her up. Maybe a night or two away from Erebor would be good. Hopefully, she'd be able to leave the stress that was settling uneasily on her shoulders behind. Mahal, she hoped so.

"When?"

"This coming weekend, we're thinking. We'll leave on the Friday morning and come back the Saturday evening."

Ora's thoughts flickered slightly, bringing her back to the king. What if Thorin was to ask her to dinner again on those days? Would she turn him down? _Could_ she turn the king down? Is that allowed?

She shook her head and sighed inwardly. That's _if_ the king invites her to dinner again.

_Oh, Mahal._

There's a sentence she never thought she'd say. Never, in her entire life would she ever be thinking about when the next time she'd be having dinner with the king would be. She still couldn't believe it.

"Well?" Pressed Ava.

"Yes." Replied Ora sternly. Rolling the pastry into a tighter ball than necessary and slapping it onto the stone work top a little too hard.

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In the four days that followed she hadn't heard hide nor hair from the king, so she assumed it would be safe for her to travel to Lake Town for the next day or so. Why she was getting so caught up in the king, she had no idea. But every day she would find herself wondering when or if she'd get a message or word from him. It made her chest twinge a little in disappointment. _How foolish_. She was getting a silly _crush_ on the king.

"You're unusually silent."

Ora was dragged from her musings by Marg's shadow casting over her.

"She's been like that all week." Piped up Ava from the other end of the boat as they crossed the lake. "I think she's ill."

"Are you ill?" Asked Marg, grabbing Ora's face and roughly inspecting her. For what though, she didn't know.

"I'm fine." Ora forced a laugh and batted Marg's hand away, "I'm just… stressed."

"I told you, Ora." Ava said pointedly, her wild hair blowing around her in the breeze, "This is a trip to relax. So, you can take those little stress Goblins and plop them in the water. Go on."

Ora rolled her eyes and stood up, stretched out her back and arms before joining Uli by the mast. They were nearly at Lake Town now, about to port in fact. And although Ora had promised herself she would leave her stresses and worries behind in Erebor, that was becoming more and more apparently it was easier said than done.

"I need a drink." She muttered more to herself than anyone else, but Ava's sharp hearing caught her words and responded with a boisterous 'here, here!'

Once they'd docked and paid the boatmen, they headed towards the 'Flat Fish Bar', which was supposedly the one with the 'incredible' fish pies.

"What a silly name." Commented Ora as they headed in.

The pub was just like the ones in Dale, although this one had less Dwarves and more men. Lake Town was another settlement that had benefited greatly from the riches and trade that had come with Erebor, and because of this Dwarves were more or less welcomed everywhere, and supposedly this bar was no exception.

Like Dale, however, Lake Town had been mostly destroyed by Smaug. But the added income from Erebor helped build it up again. Although it was smaller now, more or less being a simple trading hub rather than a full, all singing, all dancing town like Dale. It wasn't quite as extravagant either, but it had a certain warmth about it that relaxed Ora.

They were greeted politely by the odd human as they made their way to a free booth at the back.

"First rounds on me." Grinned Ava, not bothering to settle down before rounding in the drinks.

Ora took this moment while her friends readied themselves to eye the pub. It was cosy, and surprisingly warm bearing in mind that winter was on them, but this was due to a large, open fire that burned brightly in the far corner. The walls and flooring where made up of the same wood – a typical style for Lake Town, but a sensible one seeing as they were positioned above water right now. That was a thought that Ora didn't like to think too much about.

There were booths lining the far side, and a bar positioned on the adjoining wall. Everywhere else round tables of various sizes were scattered.

"I ordered food for us as well." Ava said loudly and she came back to the table bearing gifts of ales. "I got too excited to wait, sorry."

The other three Dwarrowdam's shrugged, not expecting anything else from Ava. Ora and Marg took a long swig of their ales each.

Ora was sitting beside Uli, and while Ava and Marg started bickering Ora turned her attention to the youngest Dwarf. She was chewing her thumb nail, a tell-tale sign something was wrong.

Ora lightly elbowed her, "Is everything all right?"

Uli's eyes flashed to Ora only for a moment before returning to her untouched ale, and she didn't cease chewing her nail.

"Will you come to the bathroom with me quickly?" Uli whispered and Ora nodded. They both excused themselves before venturing into the bathrooms.

"What is it?" Ora asked nervously as she shut the door firmly behind her. She turned to see Uli pacing frantically and still biting her nail. "Uli?"

Uli ran her fingers through her red hair sharply, muttering profanities under her breath as she went.

Then she stopped, and turned to her, looking almost desperate when she spoke and her eyes pleaded with Ora, "You must swear to never tell anyone what I'm about to tell you."

Ora nodded, a frown of concern etching into her face. "Of course."

"Not even Ava, o-or Giora."

Ora shook her head, "I won't say a word, I swear. Please, what is it?"

Uli put her head in her hands and backed into the far corner, Ora didn't understand what was going on until she heard a loud, but muffled, sob escape the youngster's lips. Instantly she rushed over to her, supporting Uli as she slid down the wall and onto the floor.

"Oh, O-Ora," she choked through her tears, "I've been such a fool."

Ora frowned. Uli was one of the most well behaved Dwarrowdams she knew. Her father was strict, he was a tradesman who had travelled all over Middle-Earth in search of goods to sell. Being so well travelled he knew full well of the dangers that lurked behind every corner, and he did his best to keep Uli safe. Uli's mother had died when Smaug attacked, she was raised mostly by her aunt.

Ora forced a light laugh in an attempt to be comforting, "You, Uli? A fool? I think another dragon will attack Erebor before—"

"I'm pregnant."

There was a long silence between the two of them, and Ora nearly toppled backwards upon hearing those words, so she joined Uli on the floor.

"Are you angry with me?" Uli asked eventually, her voice so small it could barely be heard.

Ora hesitated for a moment, "N-No." Anger never even crossed her mind. Worry? Yes. Anger? No. "Who's the father?"

Uli bit her lip and once more tears swelled in her eyes, she quickly buried her head in her hands again. "I can't say."

"Why not? Uli, you have to tell me." Ora tried to keep her voice low and calm, but desperation leaked through. She was instantly worried for her friend.

"He doesn't know. And he will never know. Ora," Uli looked up then, meeting Ora dead in the eyes and taking her hand tightly, "You must never tell anyone… If he finds out… He won't love me anymore."

"Uli, that is foolish." She didn't mention that it was more foolish of Uli to have relations of that nature out of wedlock, but now wasn't the time for that conversation. "You have his babe inside of you, you cannot keep that from him. In a few months he'll work it out for himself."

Uli sobbed into her hands once more, "I might not ever see him again."

Ora frowned again, "What?"

Uli groaned, "He… He lives in Dale."

Things began to tick away in Ora's head, and then she suddenly gasped, "He's human, isn't he?"

Slowly, Uli nodded.

The weight of anxiety that weighed on Ora's shoulders just increased by another ton or two.

"What am I going to do?" Uli asked quietly.

Ora let out a long sigh, "You'll have to tell him, Uli."

Uli looked appalled by that idea, "No! No! He can't know. What if he stops loving me? What if doesn't want to—"

"If he loves you he wouldn't leave you just because you're carrying his child. He will be happy. You must tell him."

Uli looked as though what Ora was saying made sense – which it obviously did. But she didn't want to do it. Instead she sighed.

"You're right."

"I know I am."

The two females stayed there for a little longer before finally righting themselves and venturing back out to Marg and Ava. Thankfully, the two of them didn't ask what had kept them, because at that moment the food arrived and instantly (if for a very short amount of time) all woes were forgotten. Although, every time Ora spared a glance to Uli, the young Dwarf looked like someone had thrown a puppy. Ora couldn't help but imagine what she must be feeling, and soon enough she too was dragged down the mood ladder and left at the bottom step, wallowing in a puddle of pity for Uli.

She was so caught up in her emotions and her thoughts of helping Uli that the worries about The King Under The Mountain were long, long gone.

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_Hmmmmmm_

_Not a very exciting chapter guys ): I'm sorry!_

_I wanted to add dimension to my other characters, everything will tie up though. I promise!_

_Thank you all so much to those who favourited, followed and reviewed!_

_Those who reviewed you've really, really made my week! You're all so, so kind and the more comments and reviews I get then the more motivation I get to update faster!_

_Literally, I'll wake up in the morning, see the reviews and start itching to write another chapter!_

_Please keep the comments coming (:_

_Thank you!_

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_OH_

_Also, if you have any questions, feel free to ask me on PM, or comment and I'll PM you, or tumblr (BrightPinkPineapple)_

_Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand I need another Dwarrowdam_

_So please, if you want to be mentioned, in the reviews post your Dwarf character. The more details you can give me then the better (it's easier to work with that way and develop the story line I have in mind)_

_Thank you!_

_Lots of thorin in the next chapter!_

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	11. Chapter 10

Well, the relaxing trip to Lake Town wasn't a total disappointment; Ora didn't think about the king once the entire time. However, her thoughts were plagued with worrying about Uli instead, so the stress and anxiety she felt didn't actually leave her, it just shifted from one cause to the next.

A _human_. Oh, Mahal, what has she gotten herself into? If she bears her child out of wedlock it'll be a bastard, but if she is to marry the human...

Ora gulped and shook her head, trailing behind her three friends as they made their way back towards Erebor from the lake. She knew full well what marriage entailed, for one it demanded the king's approval, and Ora didn't know if Thorin would approve of Uli's marriage.

Ora was so busy intently staring at her feet that she didn't even notice her friends had ground to a halt before the thick stone steps until she smacked right into the back of Ava. Her mood only spiralled down further when she looked up to find Dwalin at the top of the steps, glaring down at them with his large arms folded over his expansive chest.

He stared straight at her, and simply flicked his head in command for her to follow him. She exchanged a puzzled look between her and her friends, a twinge of concern creeping up on her, but she said nothing. She quickly scurried up the steps after him, having to nearly run to catch up with his long strides.

"Is everything all right?" She asked once she was by his side. She was beginning to feel exhausted all over again. Lake Town had done her no salvation, and now she was back to the intensity of Erebor and it's increasingly tight walls. "Am I in trouble?"

Dwalin scoffed, "It depends."

Ora blinked a few times before stopping in her tracks just as they entered the Main Entrance. "What is the meaning of this?" She snapped, all her stress was being to boil now. She needed to be with Uli, not faffing around trailing after the king's guard at his beck and call. "I'm in no mood to..." She trailed off, her confidence waning when the five foot tall and nearly the same width Dwalin turned to her.

"The **king** wishes to speak to you."

And just like that, she remembered her place and she silenced immediately.

Truth be told she wanted to run away while Dwalin had his back to her, but she didn't dare. _What had she done?_

"May I ask what I've done wrong?" She finally asked.

"You left with no warning, we thought something had happened to you."

Ora blinked, "I was only away for a day. My next of kin knew where I was, who else was I supposed to tell?" She couldn't understand why she was getting the wrath of this. Had her friends known about a procedure that she didn't? Was she _supposed_ to of informed one of the kings guards of her trip?

"Me. Next time you venture beyond our front gate you must inform _me_."

"But why?"

She didn't get a reply however, for Dwalin led her straight into the King's Hall. Instantly, Ora took an interest in the network of intricately laced gems that encrusted the walls, and tried her hardest not to focus on the king, hiding herself partially behind Dwalin was they walked.

They didn't quite make it to the throne though, because as they drew closer Thorin stood and walked towards them. His heavy boots hitting the stone floor at a brisk pace, with his jaw set sharply and brow in a stern frown. It almost looked as though he was going to walk straight past her, bearing in mind he didn't even spare her a glance.

It wasn't until she heard him growl a low "Come." That she realised he was acknowledging her. Immediately she span round and followed the king as he left the King's Hall and along the passage Ora had just walked. She tried to suppress the annoyance that was building up within her. She couldn't help but feel like she was being dragged around like some sort of doll.

"Excuse me, your majesty." She tried to bite her attitude, but sass still oozed out of every word. Thorin didn't turn round to look at her, so she took the opportunity to glare into the back of his black, mane of hair. "But I've had a rough few days. I wish to return to my chambers."

Her plea went ignored, and she continued to follow the king through the halls. She tried to ignored the curious looks the other Erebor dwellers were giving her, and she winced when she saw Fraugh glaring right at her. She attempted to fall behind the king even further but he somehow noticed the gap between them growing and turned to her. "Hurry up." It was apparent he too was trying to control his anger, and when he turned forward once more Ora stuck her tongue out at him childishly.

Thorin led her up another flight of steps, and separated the cascade of Dwarves descending the same stairs like a boulder. Ora hurried along behind him, struggling to keep up with his two steps at a time pace.

Eventually, they turned a corner and Thorin led her through an oak and iron door. The room itself wasn't particularly large, especially for the purpose Ora assumed it was for. She was standing right in the middle of the king's personal study - or so it seemed. If the situation at hand wasn't so terrifying for her she would have been utterly honoured that her king had led her into such a personal room. Book shelves lined two out of the four walls, each filled with books varying from size, colour and shape, and scrolls of different ages and thickness. On the third wall, a large fireplace roared, with two arm chairs facing towards it. Towards one side of the room, a large, thick oak desk sat. The entire surface was nearly entirely covered with papers, books and files. All in all, the entire room was a mess, and she found herself itching to tidy up.

"Where had you been?" The king growled, pulling Ora back down to the mountain.

Ora frowned, unsure why she needed to explain herself. Of course, he was the king, he could ask whatever he wanted, but at the same time she didn't understand _why_ he should. Or _why_ he cared.

"I visited Lake Town, with my friends." Ora replied carefully.

"Without a word?"

Ora's frown deepened further. "I didn't realise I was supposed to, I never have before." She then hesitated for a moment, not wanting to say the next sentence that floated through her mind. But unfortunately it fell out anyway, "Nor do I believe it's any of your business."

_Oh, Mahal._

The king turned on her, looming down at her from his great height, belittling her and making her feel no bigger than a beetle that was about to be crushed. Her already abnormally large eyes grew even wider, and in the fire light they sparkled with worry.

Thorin's lips pressed into a thin line, and he painfully slowly began to step towards her, his thick, intimidating boots thumping on the floor. Her heart pounded when she noticed his fingers twitching.

She braced herself for the infamous wrath of Thorin Oakenshield; the king; _her_ king. She braced herself for a verbal battering, or at least the final push off the last step of her emotional ladder.

She squeezed her eyes shut as he impended over her, eyes icy cold and hard. His broad chest seem to span for miles across before her, and she was at least a head shorter than he was. He stood so close that the metal tips of his boots brushed at the hem of her skirt.

"Of course it's my business," He growled lowly, the deep rumbling of his voice shot through Ora like lightening and lingered like a storm in her very bones. "I wish no harm to come to you."

Her eyes popped open, and she jumped back in surprise to see the king standing so close. His eyes were no longer filled with raging fury, but instead, his cool, blue pools enticed her into relaxation, and (very much to her surprise) his brows were slightly bent with concern.

"I'm sorry?" She gaped, and involuntary her eyes flickered to the clock that sat over the mantel piece.

Thorin stepped back and straightened up, noticing her glance, "Am I keeping you?" He growled sarcastically.

Truthfully he was. But she daren't say that, not since he spared her (spared her from what cause, she didn't know) and actually came across as a little... caring?

But she was supposed to be going to the market with Uli to search for garments to hide the pending bump that would undoubtedly begin to emerge over the next few months. She, of course, couldn't tell the king this though.

"No." She rep_lied_.

Thorin nodded sternly, once again regaining his tense and authorising stance, "Good." He grunted, "Next time inform someone of your outings, so we can set the proper precautions."

Ora frowned again, "Precautions? Whatever for?"

"For you safety."

"I don't understand why that is necessary, I can look after myself." Her defensiveness began to prickle once more. She didn't need to be treated like child. She'd fought battles, wandered The Wild, ventured through dense wilderness and climbed the highest mountains. Going to Dale or Lake Town was barely a dangerous affair.

He nodded, "I know you can. But that doesn't change anything."

"I'm sure your guards have better ways to spend their time then accompanying a silly, little baker shopping."

Thorin didn't respond, signalising the conversation was over. Ora tried to subtly grit her teeth to vent some of her frustration.

"Sit." The king commanded, and Ora obeyed, if not a little begrudgingly.

"Is this your study?" She asked, watching him as he walked past her to stand before the fire.

"Yes."

She looked around her, "Have you read all these books?"

"No."

"Why ever not? They seem fascinating." Ora was sure they would be. Of course, only Mahal, the King, and his closest allies probably knew what was in those books, and why they weren't in the public library. Ora was itching to have a good nosy in them, and maybe a scroll or two. She wondered vaguely if there were any maps she could follow.

Thorin turned to her, his huge body nearly completely casting out the fire and causing a large, intimidating shadow over Ora.

"You wish to read them?"

Ora shuffled and cast her eyes downwards. She feared she was becoming too relaxed in his presence, and she scowled herself for speaking out of line once again. Subsequently she didn't reply.

"Help yourself, Mahal knows that books are there to be read."

Ora's head snapped up from inspecting the tassel lined rug just in time to watch Thorin turn back towards the fire. "Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't invite you into my study if I wasn't."

Ora rubbed her temples, utterly confused by him. She still didn't understand why he was being like this to her. He was kinder to her than she'd originally expected him to be, but he was also protective of her. Did he like her baking _that_ much?

There was a long silence, one filled with Ora squirming in her seat and her eyes fixated onto the solid, still back of her king. Draped in his usual magnificent fur lined coat, and his rich, royal blue tunic and thick, beautifully made trousers. Ora felt shabby in comparison with her plain, somewhat worn out forest green dress and low fur booties.

"My Lord?" She asked before she could stop herself. She had to know for _some_ _sort_ of piece of mind.

Thorin turned his head slightly in acknowledgement but said nothing.

"What do you think about interracial marriages?" Thorin turned on her so fast she flinched, "Hypothetically speaking, of course!"

Thorin's eyes were hard, "why?"

Ora thought quickly, "I-I'm writing a book."

"On interracial marriage?"

"On interracial relationships in general, actually. I've been asking a variety of people their opinions on the matter."

"Oh, aye? And what exactly have you discovered so far?"

Ora had a feeling that question was rhetorical. The bottom line was that people didn't just marry outside of their race, it was practically unheard of, and certainly frowned upon. So, Ora knew that when he asked her that he was actually challenging her, daring her to answer anything other than disapproval.

"Most people I've asked are against it." She replied cautiously, watching his eyes and face for a reaction. But, of course, she got done. The king bore his usual blank expression. "What about you, my Lord- I mean, Thorin?"

Thorin took a deep breath, and for a moment it looked like he carried some sort of burden on his shoulders about the topic. But, Ora quickly shook her head. Why would he?

"I don't approve of it." He answered eventually in the exact words Ora had expected him to say. "But,"

_What_? Ora's head snapped up.

Thorin seemed to hesitate, "I don't believe one can always choose who they love."

They fell into silence once more, and Ora scratched her chin. Maybe there was some hope for Uli yet?

Ora shot another look at the clock, and when she glanced back at Thorin she found him watching her once more.

"Go." He told her, straightening up and smoothing down his armour and tunic. "Clearly you have other engagements."

Ora nodded and stood, "Thank you." She was about the turn when the king stopped her.

"Ora?" She paused, raising her brows questioningly. "Lunch tomorrow." He told her, "Come to the Kings Hall at noon. My sister wishes to meet you." With that he turned away and moved towards his desk, leaving Ora to deal with the conflicting battle starting in her head. So she just nodded and took her leave.

Ora's entire walk to the market consisted of her head swimming and stomach churning. Why would the king's sister want to meet her? Had Thorin spoken of her baking to her?

Ora shook her head. The more she thought of her baking being the foundation of all of this the more farfetched it all felt. This was all getting rather surreal, and the more time she spend dwelling on all this then the more impossible and strange it all seemed.

"Ora? Ora?" She was pulled from her thoughts by a familiar voice, and reluctantly she turned to find Colborn grinning at her and walking towards her. However, his expression dampened when he noticed the grave look on her face. "Is everything all right? You look like you've just been kicked by a horse." He tried to offer her a comforting smile, but it fell flat when she continued to scowl.

"Nothing. Just not in a good mood."

"Oh, aye? Who is responsible? Whose nose do I need to break?"

Ora nearly smiled at him, and she playfully nudged him with her elbow before continuing to walk again. She heard him fall into step beside her and she let out a sigh. "No one is responsible. Just... lots of taxing situations..."

"Like what?"

Ora sighed again. She knew she couldn't tell Colborn of Uli's predicament, nor could she mention the king's companionship. She knew she'd feel better if she told someone, if she got some advice. But she couldn't. "Nothing of importance. Just work."

"It must be important enough to you to bother you so. And therefore it is important to me."

Ora looked up at Colborn then, eyebrows slightly raised with surprise. "Thank you. That's very kind, but honestly, I'm getting myself into a rut over nothing." She tried to offer the young Dwarf her most sincere smile.

By the looks of it Colborn believed her, and he slowed to a stop. Ora mirrored him, frowning in confusion when he began to root around in his trouser pocket for something. "Er... I- erm - I hope you like it." He pulled out a small, wooden box from the depth of his pocket and handed it out towards Ora.

Ora's face paled a little as she tentatively took the small box from him.

"I ought to get back." Colborn shot a glance over his shoulder, and Ora briefly did too. Her blood ran cold when she saw Dwalin standing under a nearby archway, face as stern as stone and arms crossed in an intimidating fashion over his chest. He was watching them with a blank expression as Ora slowly opened the small box.

"Oh...!" She gasped, peering at the tiny, beautiful silver bead that lay on a plush little plum coloured cushion.

"Please," Colborn quickly help up his hands, "please, just think about it, all right?" And with that he smiled and turned away, marching back towards Dwalin who looked like he was going to pop with rage.

_Why_?

Ora didn't dwell on Dwalin though, and she turned her attention back down the small bead before her. She gulped.

Had Colborn really just presented her with a bead of courtship?

.

.

.

"Are you going to accept?"

Ora had popped and totally spilled the beans all over the place to Uli. Just about Colborn though, she was still debating about telling Ava about the king, although, she doubted it would be any help. Ava was as useless at love as she was at cooking.

"I, erm, don't know." She replied carefully as the pair weaved their way in and out of market stalls. Truth be told, she didn't think she would. There was something stopping her. Colborn was strong, handsome, and kind. He would undoubtedly make a perfect husband. But... She couldn't bring herself to accept. It felt as though her heart was shaking its head on the matter, she just didn't _want_ to.

Uli suddenly let out a very forced, pained laugh like a mad woman, and Ora stumbled away a bit when the red head threw out her arms in dismay.

"Look at us!" She giggled, "Together, we'd make _one_ acceptable Dwarf. If only I was in your shoes, Ora."

Ora grumbled to herself. Knowing that if she could she was gladly trade shoes with Uli, she'd rather be carrying a bastard child than... deal with whatever the king was up to.

Did the king just want a _friend_?

Ora nearly laughed, feeling as insane as Uli who was still prancing around like a rogue deer.

Why would the king want _her_ as a friend? A _baker_. Honestly, what was he playing at?

Then it hit her.

He'd admitted to still suffer from the gold sickness. Was she a way to keep his mind off it, maybe? Was she just a decoy or some sort? She didn't know if she was alarmed or honoured. Of course, no one wanted to be mere distraction for someone, but at the same time being the kings distraction wouldn't be so bad.

She shook her head again and followed after Uli hurriedly.

"Are you drunk, girl?" Ora snapped, grabbing Uli by her forearm and pulling her away from a stall of feathers, one of which she was about to put up her nose. This was totally unlike Uli.

"I'm fed up!" She fumed, pulling her arm away from Ora's grasp. "Life just eats you up, chews you, and then splits you back out again, so what is the point of trying to taste good? We all just end up the same way -as _khakfe_!"

Ora winced, she could literally see Uli's sanity floating away. Uli was stressed, upset and angry at herself and those around her. So, trying to be comforting Ora offered out her hand with a small, reassuring smile.

"Everything will be all right, I promise."

Uli's shoulders slumped, and she let out a shaky sigh, "And if it's not?"

Ora gave Uli a sympathetic look but said nothing. She had nothing to say to that without lying. Honestly, she didn't even know if everything would be all right, but she had promised and she'd be damned if she couldn't keep her word.

Hesitantly, Uli took hold of Ora's hand, and blonde gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Both females took a deep breath, both attempting to blow away their woes. Of course, it didn't help, but the miracle of oxygen made Ora's head clearer for just second before they set off down the market again; hand in hand.

"Where are we going?" Ask Ora as they passed her dress makers stall.

"To see my seamstress."

"You don't go to Nalah?" Nalah was famous for her dresses at affordable prices. Granted, she was no gown maker, but she made all of Ora's dresses, as well as her mothers, grandmothers, Ava's and her mothers, and she simply assumed Uli went to her as well.

"Nope." Replied Uli, dragging Ora around behind her as she pushed her way deeper into the market and down another level.

Eventually, the pair arrived at a stall Ora hadn't seen before, in fact she'd never been this far down into the market.

The shop was small, and didn't have an outside stall, instead it had dresses, gowns and tunics hanging all over the outer wall, all the way up to the bottom of the level above, and right across to the edges where the neighbouring stools started. There was a short, curved door right in the middle.

Without hesitation, Uli wandered inside, and Ora cautiously followed, not knowing what to expect. The inside of the shop was very much like the outside. From floor to ceiling the walls were completely covered with dresses, fabrics, ribbons, tassels, decorations, measuring utensils and much, much more than Ora couldn't even begin to name.

"Anar?" Uli called, and within seconds out from behind a cluster of rolls of fabric out popped a little Dwarf. She blinked up at Ora and Uli with dark, muddy brown eyes partially hidden behind a mass of unruly matching tresses.

"Good afternoon," She greeted, looking up at a grinning Uli and a confused looking Ora. If she thought Poe was short, this Dwarf was like a gnome in comparison. She was maybe nearly a head shorter than Uli, with a wide, short nose that made her look a little like a sweet, little chipmunk with fuzzy, wispy sideburns. "Who's this?" She nodded at Ora, whose brows rose slightly in surprise. For such a little creature, she sure was brash.

"This is Ora, Ora this is Anar."

"Lovely to meet you, Anar." Ora smiled politely. She glanced worryingly to Ora when Anar approached her slowly, peering at her so intensely she was nearly glaring. She gave Ora one long, hard look before stepping back and, much to Ora's surprise and relief, she grinned brightly.

"And you too, Miss Ora! How can I help you two?" She grinned so wide her eyes disappeared behind her large cheeks.

"I've decided to gain weight." Uli announced boldly, puffing out her chest and ignoring Ora's incredulous look.

"Oh, aye?" Anar replied, peering at Uli before intrepidly reaching forward and squeezing a bit of Uli's stomach. Ora snickered when Uli jumped back with a squawk. "I can tell already." Uli frowned and rubbed her belly, when she did however, Ora saw a flicker of sadness in her eyes.

"Well, the thing is, I want to be able to hide it as much as possible. So, would you be able to fashion me a dress that will cover up the weight gain?"

Both Anar and Ora frowned. That was probably the worst and stupidest lie Ora had ever heard, and by the way Anar was looking at Uli she too was thinking somewhere along the same lines.

"Why would you gain weight, just to want to hide it?"

Uli blinked a few times, "I'm testing a theory." Ora snorted and Uli glared at her.

Anar rubbed at her sideburns and made a humming noise.

"Can you do it?" Uli asked impatiently, and for a moment Ora thought Anar was going to ask more questions by the look on her face. But to her surprise she didn't.

Instead, Anar simply nodded "Aye, course I can!"

Uli let out a loud sigh, "Thank you, and a coat please?" She called as Anar disappeared down the shop.

"Oh!" Ora exclaimed, "I'll have a coat too, please. If you're any good." She added the last part jestingly. Anar looked around her age , although, she acted much older, but hopefully she could still take a joke.

In response she simple turned, rolled her eyes and made a loud 'pfft!' sound.

"How many dresses, lass?" Anar asked Uli as she came hurrying back, a small stool in one hand and a small box in the other.

Uli and Ora exchanged a look, "Four, or five?"

"All right. Now, if you intend to hide the weight gain," She flashed Uli a wary look, "Then I would go for the darker colours, black preferably, but navy blue or charcoal grey would work too. Also, another thing, we will nip it in just under the bust, rather than narrow the waist." Anar continued to sprout nonsense that went straight over Ora's head as she lead Uli to the stool and pulled her to stand on it.

Uli just nodded along, apparently understanding what was being said.

While those two were busy, Ora let her feet wander around the shop, flicking through the variety of fabrics and peering into a few random boxes to find them to be filled with fastenings of all kinds, and decorations from jewels to buttons.

"What sort of coat are you after?" Ora jumped and spun round to find Anar standing right behind her, blinking at her with round eyes.

Ora cursed under her breath and clutched at her racing heart, "You scared me."

Anar rolled her eyes and popped her hip out, folding her arms across her chest she repeated the question, "What sort of coat?"

Ora blinked, "The kind that stops you from getting cold?"

Anar looked unimpressed by that remark, "Colour?"

"Grey?"

"Light or dark?"

"Medium?"

"Any particular detailing?" Anar reached around Ora and began picking at little glass boxes in one of the cabinets. It was then that Ora noticed Uli standing rather comically on the small stool, trying to balance with her arms out and draped in tape measures.

"Oh! Get fur, Ora!" Uli exclaimed excitedly.

Ora eyed the piles of furs in the corner and slowly she made her way over to it, "Can I have this around the neck?" She pulled on a fluffy, white pelt that lay near the bottom. She ran her fingers through the hairs, enjoying the softness under her palm. She'd never had anything fancy like a fur collar. Giora did, but that's because he got a big fancy coat when he won his first game.

Ora's mother had told her she would get one too when she stopped growing, but she'd stopped nearly seventy years ago, so she'd have to take matters into her one hands. She held the pelt tightly against herself and snuggled her face into the fur.

For a split, blood curdling, stomach churning, heart wrenching moment an alarming question crossed her mind. So alarming in fact that she promptly dropped the fur.

_I wonder if this is what it's like to hug the king?_

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_I LOVED YOUR REVIEWS SO MUCH I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF BUT WRITE ANOTHER CHAPTER!_

_thank you all so much to those who have reviewed, you're all so wonderful!_

_i'm sorry this chapters a little lame, i didn't really know what to do with thorin. I wanted him to be protective, but also still 'aloof' (or at least to ora) about everything. But i feel like i've messed it up_

_ugh_

_this chapters a little rushed too, i feel_

_but anyway, please keep up the comments guys, i'm pooping out the chapters :))))))))))))))]_

_thank you also to all those who have favourited and followed!_

_i love the comments guys, i love reading them all - you seriously make my day!_

_let me know what you think of the chapter and story so far!_

_also, i'm think about doing pictures of all the characters and small bios of them, just so you can get a better idea of them. Like ages, characteristics ect, ect_

_what do you think?_

_MUCH LOVE_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_


	12. Chapter 11

Ora stood before the gorgeous yellow gown, staring blankly at it as it twinkled back at her. The dress was beautiful, no doubt about that. But the question still haunted her regarding _how_ this dress got to her? Who had given it to her? The king and Dwalin had hinted that they knew about it and were possibly even behind it, but that thought unnerved her somewhat.

She couldn't help but feel a little bit like a doll, and she didn't like it. The king kept telling her what and what she shouldn't do, and when he had told her to wear the dress the previous day her annoyance had prickled slightly. _Of course_, she was going to wear the dress anyway, but now the king had _told_ her to she found herself not wanting to. But couldn't not. She wouldn't dare.

She let out a loud sigh.

Why was the king so insistent on her anyway? He's giving her more time of day (even though it isn't a lot) than she'd seen him offer any other female before, and he seems to almost care about her, and he's certainly protective over her. But why? If Ora didn't know better she'd think all these acts were advances towards her, but he was the king and that would just be fools talk. Totally absurd.

Slowly, she made her way towards the gown and circled it, wondering how on Middle-Earth she was supposed to put it on.

Eventually she managed it and before leaving for the King's Hall she took one last look at herself. Her usual, unruly curls were somewhat tamed today. Although, if Marg was allowed to help her hair definitely would have look incredible, but, of course, she wasn't telling anyone that she seemed to have a weird relationship with The King Under The Mountain.

Half her hair hung down her back in the typical soft ringlets, whereas the other half was piled (somewhat) neatly into a braided bun towards the back of her head. Her large green eyes sparkled like dewy moss on a spring morning, and her thick, black eyelashes framed them. She pulled a dramatic, exasperated face in the mirror before grabbing her shawl off her bed (her coat would take a few days to be made) and headed towards the door.

Much to her surprise she didn't encounter anyone she knew on her way to the Kings Hall, she was expecting too, after all it would be just her luck to bump into Ava or someone and be pelted with questions. She was on edge though, she could feel people staring at her as she walked past, and once or twice she saw someone whisper and point. She wrapped her arms around herself, hating the attention and wondering what they could be talking about.

She found herself relieved to arrive at the Hall, mainly because it was mostly deserted other than the usual gaggle of desperate Dwarrowdams. Ora spotted Fraugh and tried fruitfully to avoid eye contact, and she walked straight past her and pretended not to notice she was even there. Of course, Fraugh saw her, and Ora could feel the mental daggers The Foul was throwing at her with her eyes.

"Ah! Is this her?" Ora nearly jumped when a large chest appeared in front of her, and she nearly jumped back with a yelp. Instead, she controlled herself and took a subtle step back as she gazed up at the Dwarrowdam before her. Dis was grinning broadly at her, and before she knew what was happening Dis had grabbed her face and head butted her.

Ora yelped and stumbled slightly, but regained composer quickly to find Dis laughing at her.

"Thick skull, I like her already!"

Ora frowned in confusion. Granted, she had a thick skull even for a Dwarf (inherited from her father's side) but she didn't understand Dis' words.

"T-Thank you?" Ora short a glance over Dis' shoulder and towards Thorin, he didn't look over the moon about his sister head butting the blonde Dwarf, and had his usual disapproving scowl on his face.

"Sister, would you mind not crushing her skull? At least wait until after lunch."

Dis just tipped her head back and let out a great, loud, booming laugh. "Oh, brother, we are merely being friendly. After all, we will soon be spending a lot of time together."

Thorin growled loudly and Ora's eyes popped, "W-We will?" She didn't think her poor skull would take much more pounding. That thought led her to remembering when Ava had head butted Marg for the first time, the poor girl quite literally keeled over. Ora giggled to herself, but quickly stopped when she noticed Thorin's sharp gaze on her. She coughed awkwardly.

"Well, I hope so anyway." Dis replied loudly, not really caring that everyone in the Hall could hear what she was saying. She reminded Ora a lot of Kili. "Come girl, you must be famished." And with that she grabbed Ora's arm and looped it through hers.

Ora didn't really know what to do with herself.

"I must warn you," Dis began just as they left the King's Hall, "Fili and Kili I think plan to crash our lunch. I've asked for us to be moved into another private dining hall, but that's never stopped them before!" She let out another booming laugh, but poor Ora looked as though she was about to be sat on by a Troll.

This was all so foreign to her. Their way of life was so alien and strange to her, it was like they lived in a totally different mountain up in the sky, or somewhere.

_Oh, yes, don't worry about if my sons – you know, the two princes of the mightiest Dwarven kingdom in Middle Earth, one of which will someday be your __**king**__ – crash our little lunch, I've asked us to be moved into another – yes, __**another**__ – dining room so you might be able to eat in peace with the __**king of Erebor and his sister!**_

Ora puffed out her cheeks and physically restrained herself from letting out a loud, exasperated sigh.

Oh, yes, this was going to be a long lunch.

She did try to listen to what Lady Dis was saying to her, but firstly she could barely keep up, and secondly she could barely concentrate. Thorin had come to stand on her other side, in fact, he stood so close his thick arm kept brushing hers, and every time they did she wanted to jump, scream, and run away. This was all getting too much for the poor baker, she wasn't used to this sort of thing. Why would she be? It's not every day a Dwarf of her position is sandwiched between a king and a princess.

A stray hair wafted down towards her eye, and she quickly blew it away. This didn't catch Lady Dis' attention, but when she felt a pair of eyes on her she turned in the direction of the king.

She offered him a small, nervous smile. Thorin's face stayed blank, but this eyes said something, something in a language Ora didn't understand. So, she frowned at him, and he in return rolled his eyes and shook his head, turning to look forward once more.

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Lunch certainly wasn't what Ora was expecting. But then again, nothing was the same for her as it was for them. Ora's idea of lunch consisted of some bread and/or cheese, or maybe even a pastry from her own market stool. Never in her entire life would she expect to have a banquet for lunch, and wine. _Wine_ at lunch, who would have thought?_ What a marvellous idea_.

Not that Ora complained, in fact, she was more than content on munching away and just nodding to whatever Dis threw at her. Occasionally she'd squeeze a word in, but most of the time she wondered how Dis actually breathed around all her talking. It made sense that Thorin was so quiet all the time, he was probably used to not talking.

However, Ora found herself enjoying Dis' company a lot, she was funny, smart, and they shared a common interest in that their weapon of choice was an axe.

Ora hadn't spoken to Thorin about her days in The Wild, or any of her wanderings for that matter. Mainly because he hadn't actually asked, and even if he had done she would have been reluctant to tell him, or most likely made up some sort of excuse to change the subject. However, Dis wasn't Thorin, and she seemed to have a knack for enticing information out of people, but Ora knew a personal question when she heard one.

"Who taught you how to wield an axe, Ora?" Dis asked one of the many questions she'd fired at Ora that afternoon whilst chasing a mushroom around her plate with her folk.

"My eldest brother." Ora replied, watching with amusement as Dis accidently pinged the mushroom from her plate and narrowly missed a bored looking Thorin by inches. He growled and scowled at her, but Dis merely waved him away like an irritating bug.

"Giora?" Dis asked, and something in her tone implied she knew that it wasn't him.

"No, my eldest brother; Jora." Ora felt Thorin's eyes on her then, and she briefly glanced at him. She needn't bother though, he always had the same blank expression on his face. She completely missed the almost sorrowful look in his eyes though.

Dis carefully laid down her knife and fork and reached for some bread, "Jora?

"Yes, erm, he taught me how to fight. My mother was against it, of course, but we would sneak off and he'd teach me whatever my father had taught him and Giora that day. He told me that one day I'd need it, that in times like these a Dwarf that can't fight is a dead Dwarf." Ora rubbed the back of her neck uneasily, ignoring the penetrating stare of Thorin Oakenshield.

"He sounds like a good soul." Thorin said in his usual rumbling tone. Ora looked up at him, and for a split second they locked eyes.

"He was." She replied, and for that fleeting moment before she looked away again her heart rate accelerated. _Must have been those beans_.

"What happened to him?" Dis probed further, her tone was somewhat wary, as if she was testing the waters.

Ora recoiled a bit, her dark eyebrows twitching into a slight frown.

"Dis, you shouldn't ask such questions." Snapped Thorin, making Ora blink at him questioningly for coming to her aid so brashly towards his own sister.

Dis shrugged, but she didn't take her eyes off of Ora. She almost had a determined look in her eyes when she spoke, "I just want to see how well the lass deals with death. I want to see how strong she is."

Now _that_ hit a nerve.

Ora's head snapped up to meet Dis' gaze. The princess looked curious and expectant.

"Orcs." Ora straightened up and flattened the skirts in her lap. Dis' eyebrows rose a tad in surprise, and an impressed smiled lingered on her lips. "We were heading towards the Old East Road, right by the Last Bridge when we were ambushed. We were few in number, having lost an unforgettable number to famine not long before, and they took us by surprise."

"You survived though." Dis pointed out, her eyebrows were slightly bent with concern now, obviously seeing the effect this was having on Ora. Ora's eyes were large, and one could read them in a heartbeat, and right now all that could be seen was broken memories.

"Yes. But only just, I have a few… souvenirs on my skin to remind me."

Dis opened her mouth to say something, and Ora feared it would be another question, so she quickly added; "May I use your restroom?"

Dis quickly shut her mouth and nodded, and pointed her towards a door on the left.

Ora quickly got up and headed towards the bathroom, being careful to politely (and rather bravely) smile at the two before fully turning her back. All the way until she shut the door she kept her chin up and her back straight, but as soon as she entered the small hall on the other side of the door she slumped against the wall, bracing herself with wobbling hands.

Using the cool mountain walls for support she headed towards the bathroom that sat within the closest door to her right (thankfully). Once inside with the door safely locked she clasped her hands to her face to muffle a sob.

She slid down the door and sat shamelessly on the floor, pulling her knees tightly up to her chest.

Why would Lady Dis ask such questions? Why must she know what happened to her beloved brother? Ora wouldn't dare ask about their brother. Why must dis know if Ora is strong enough to deal with death? She was a baker now, the only death she saw was when Ava attempted to cook. Couldn't Dis have asked someone? Ora was sure Dwalin must know the story behind her brother's fate. That topic was hardly lunch table talk.

Ora straightened up and let out a deep breath in an attempt to compose herself.

Jora died honourably, he died in the fashion that any Dwarf would be happy to take. He died protecting his family and his friends – the ones he loved.

Ora wiped her face with the back of her hand and pulled herself from the floor. She headed towards the large, porcelain sink and turned the cold tap on to splash her face with the water. She then dried herself thoroughly and gave herself a quick once over in the mirror before heading back out.

It was obvious she'd been crying, with her large eyes it was hard to miss that they were red and puffy. But hopefully they wouldn't notice.

However, she was surprised to find that when she entered the dining hall once more the table was empty, spare a few maids clearing the dishes. Ora quickly spotted Thorin by the fire place, he was in his usual position of gazing into the flames. That was until Ora shut the door behind her. He turned to face her, his eyes boring into her with an unreadable expression on his face.

If Ora was looking at him she actually might have been able to decipher the look, but she didn't want him to see her eyes, so instead she headed towards the table to offer her help.

"Oh, no, no, m'lady. Please, don't trouble ye'self."

M'lady?

Ora scoffed a laugh and helped pile some plates up anyway to be polite, and to also bide herself more time for her eyes to recover. However, the table was cleared quickly, and Ora was once again standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, feeling the familiar I-don't-know-what-to-do-with-myself feeling take over her.

Then she realised the silence.

"Where's Lady Dis?" Ora asked, glancing at Thorin for a split second before looking round, half expecting the somewhat erratic princess to jump out from somewhere.

"She had to take her leave," Replied Thorin lowly, "She apologises for the abruptness, but Kili was shooting arrows at Fili and she had to leave immediately." There was another short pause before he continued, "She also apologises for making you feel uncomfortable."

Ora's head snapped up then, completely forgetting about the evidence of crying written all over her face and she quickly began sprouting nonsense. "Pardon? Making me feeling uncomfortable? Never! It's fine, honestly. She didn't make me feel uncomfortable, in fact—"

She was cut off when Thorin held up his hand to silence her, and for once she was glad he did.

"Sit." He told her, gesturing towards one of the red armchairs by the fire.

Ora sighed and did as she was told, but avoided eye contact the entire time, even though she could feel Thorin's gaze never leave her as she crossed the room and sat down.

"She did make you feel uncomfortable, Ora. I apologise, sometimes she gets a bit protective of me."

Ora frowned, "Protective of you? Whatever for?"

Ora didn't know what was more amusing, the fact the Dis thought interrogating a mere baker was protecting her brother, or the fact that she felt the _need_ to protect her brother – _**also known as The King Under The Mountain.**_

Thorin didn't reply, so Ora continued. Normally she wouldn't have, but her emotions and feelings were hypersensitive having been picked at by a princess, and she was therefore rather like a grumpy hedgehog.

"Does she think I'll poison your pudding or something?" Ora could have said completely innocently, or even as a joke, but the tone she used was sassy and laced with attitude, and it definitely caught the king's attention.

Thorin spun to face her, standing only a metre or two away from her in all his kingly glory and looking without a doubt more threatening than she'd ever seen him.

But she didn't flinch, or wince, or apologise. She just sat there, her expression blank but her moss coloured eyes icy and cold.

There was a long minutes silence between them, one where Ora gripped the arms of the armchair and one where Thorin flexed his jaw.

"Clearly, you don't understand." Thorin finally replied, keeping his intimidating stance but once again turning away from her. "But Dis didn't mean to be cruel, Ora. She was testing you, and you won. She likes you, and she said she hopes to have dinner with you soon to even out the battlefield. Dis can be taxing, but she only means well."

Ora didn't say anything, because if she did it wouldn't have been very nice. Thorin seemed to sense this though, and he turned again, heading towards the armchair beside hers and taking a seat.

He leant back with a loud sigh, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples.

Seeing him like that, with the firelight casting shadows to highlight and focus on his face she couldn't help but notice how exhausted he looked, and tired.

Ora relaxed also then, letting out her own sigh and slumping back into the heavenly armchair.

The pair were silent for a long time, and Ora could resist the temptation to look at Thorin whilst his eyes were closed, and whilst he was in such a rare relaxed and someone vulnerable state. Did he trust her enough to let his guard down in front of her?

She took his in mane of raven black hair and those streaks of silver that made his appear wiser, but also at the same time they made him look a little fraught. He was definitely a fierce fighter, one could tell that on a mere first glance without even knowing who or what he was. He was so tall for a Dwarf, and built like the mountain in which he ruled. Power, strong, courageous and imposing. He filled every room he was in with his mere presence, and brought even the most valiant and brave Dwarves to their knees. He was without question remarkable.

"What are you looking at?"

His velvety voice crashed into her like a mace.

She blinked a few times in surprise. She was so caught up in her own thoughts she hadn't even noticed that he'd opened his eyes and looked right back at her. But she'd been caught, and reading the expectant look on the king's face she was made to answer.

"You." She replied with more confidence than she'd originally expected.

Thorin held her gaze for a long moment, unblinking and expressionless. But then his gaze flickered to her hand that still lay on the arm of her chair (no longer gripping it, of course) only a foot or so away from him.

His eyes seemed to linger on her hand.

"That armour looks awfully heavy." Ora word vomited, feeling awkward and pleasantly uneasy under his eyes, which ironically made her feel unpleasantly nauseous.

Thorin's gaze lingered on her hand for only a few moments more before he straightened up and looked away again. "You get used to it."

"When you were on the quest, did you ever take it off?" Ora didn't realise until after what her words could have applied to, and she instantly blushed, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"No, I didn't." Thorin replied, not looking offended at all. In fact, he looked a little amused by the look of absolute horror that Ora wore only moments before.

Ora bit her lip, still embarrassed. Usually, she'd just laugh it off. But heat continued to rise in her cheeks with the sinfully (and she'd never admit it but also delicious) thoughts of _what_ exactly lay under his armour flouted through her head.

_Oh, Mahal, Ora! He is your king! Get a grip! That is totally unacceptable! _

"Would… Would you tell me more stories?" She asked tentatively, desperate to get the bold thoughts out of her head.

"I'm afraid I've already told you the best one." He replied.

"What about your time wandering? After we all separated, what happened to you?"

Thorin took a deep breath, as if he was mentally preparing himself for a battle.

"It's fine if you don't want to, though." Ora quickly added.

Thorin glanced at her and had an expression that looked as though he was thinking hard about something, before he finally said; "I led the majority of the survivors South West at first. You went South, did you not?"

Ora just nodded lamely, feeling a little chuffed that despite the obvious draining topic for Thorin, he still spoke about it for her anyway. _For her_. She felt a little giddy, and butterflies hatched in her stomach at the thought that Thorin might have just wanted to please her. But those butterflies quickly died when she reminded herself that was nonsense.

"We wandered for many years, taking jobs in villages or towns – any settlement we could find that would have us and put us to work."

"You had a job?" Ora nearly laughed, but she quickly stopped herself. She couldn't imagine Thorin Oakenshield, king of Erebor with a _job_.

"Aye, I was a blacksmith."

"Can you forge?" Ora perked up eagerly.

Thorin peered at her warily for a moment, "Yes, why?"

Ora grinned excitedly, trying to resist the temptation to jump for joy. Instead, she bottled it up and channelled it into thrilled clapping. "Would you teach me, oh, _please_ would you?"

Thorin's lips broke into a smile, and for a split second Ora forgot how to breathe. No, actually, she didn't want to breathe just in case she accidently blew it away.

"I can."

Ora bit her knuckle to vent her excitement.

It didn't occur to her until later that evening, long after spending the entirety of the afternoon with Thorin, what the gravity of the situation actually was.

Thorin Oakenshield; King of Erebor; King Under The Mountain, had given _her_ his word that he would teach _her_ how to forge.

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_TAAADAAAAA_

_BTW I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN ABOUT COLBORN AND THE BEAADDDDDD_

_Okay, maybe I did forget, but I've now decided that I'm not mentioning it for a chapter or two because I'm mean and evil_

_Literally guys, I woke up this morning to 20+ comments and thEY WERE ALL SO FANTASTIC I COULDN'T WAIT TO WRITE THIS CHAPTER FOR YOU_

_I love you all so much, you've literally made my day with your lovely reviews! THANK YOU SO MUCH!_

_Pleaseeeeeee, can you do the same for this chapter?! Because it's so lovely and URGH I COULD JUST SQUEEZE AND HUG YOU ALL *squish squish squish*_

_THANK YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

_Also, for those that don't follow me on tumblr, I have a picture of Ora, Uli, Ava and Marg on there and what they look like. (I think anyway, I can't really remember how I've described them in the story…)_

_ANYWAY_

_Can I just stress that I don't mean for Dis to look like a bitch, and she was just testing Ora because yanno… she wants Thorin to have a good one! But I will elaborate in the next few chapters, NO SPOILERS_

_Who am I kidding, I always tell people what going to happen next har har har_

_Anyway_

_LOVE YOU ALL AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_


	13. Chapter 12

Ora finished work the following day as quickly as she could, quite literally knocking her grandmother over as she left in a whirlwind of excitement to get to the forge.

Once she arrived, she waited not so patiently by the entrance, bobbing on the balls of her feet like a restless child and grinning happily at everyone who looked her way. She could have squealed when she saw Thorin round the corner, even when Dwalin came into view at his side. Ora tried to forget that she had a bone to pick with Dwalin about all his sudden appearances and nose in her business, right now she was far too excited to let her ego get in the way.

"Good afternoon!" She greeted excitedly, giving her best curtsy.

"Someone's been practising their curtsy." Dwalin said as they approached in his usual tone, although, if Ora wasn't mistaken there was a small smile on his lips.

Ora's face reddened, "Oh, aye, maybe." Her gaze flickered to Thorin for a moment, "Erm, I thought it would only be proper." Admittedly, she'd spend her entire evening the night before in front of the mirror practicing, although she fell over a few more times than she probably should have, but she thought it would be wise of her to learn who to actually formally greet those of higher status. Especially with Durin's day on the horizon.

Thorin didn't say a word as they entered the forge, despite Ora's many questions. She couldn't help but feel a strange pulling sensation in her chest when he wouldn't even acknowledge her. If it wasn't for Dwalin, she feared her questions would have fallen on deaf ears and be left answered, so, as you could imagine, when Dwalin excused himself to go talk to one of the other forge workers, Ora panicked a little.

She turned to Thorin, just as he was pulling off his heavy, fur coat by one of the stone tables.

The forge was huge, as one would expect, it had to be if it was to be the home of artillery and metal wielding for the entire kingdom. It was set well into the ground beneath the mountain, all tables surrounding large, steal furnaces and staggered up to many levels, with networks of large tunnels running off the main room, each leading to more furnaces or workshops. At the moment, Ora and Thorin were just off the main chamber a little way from the main furnaces, however, there were smaller ones dotted around them, for those working on their own projects and not wanting to be disturbed.

"What are we going to make?" Ora grinned happily, coming to rest her hands on the stone table and lean forward, grinning brightly. "A sword, an arrowed head – oh! – an axe?"

Thorin slowly laid his coat down on the far side of the table, taking his time to respond. "A bolt."

"A… A what?"

"A bolt.

Sensing Ora's deflation of excitement Thorin fully turned to her, although, she could help but notice he was avoiding her eye contact. Again, the pulling in her chest started all over again and she certainly felt her mood plummet at the idea that he didn't actually want to be there with her, more so than the anti-climax of what she was going to make was. But, why would he agree to teach her if he didn't want to?

By now, Thorin had given her the impression that if he thought something, he'd just say it with no fear of the consequences, but, as he stood before her, looking totally peeved she couldn't help but shy away from him. She hadn't realised until now, but she'd let herself open up to him, but now she could literally feel her emotional doors slowly close.

"Do you have any idea how to forge?" He asked her in a stern tone that she wasn't used to him taking with her.

"No…"

"Well then," He replied, taking a solid step towards her. And then his tone changed, and he spoke softly as if he regret his previous tone, "you'll just have to start small."

Ora relaxed a little, and simply nodded, unsure if she liked this side of temperamental Thorin. But he was the king, he could do whatever he wanted.

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Okay, maybe Ora hadn't anticipated just how hot the forges were going to get, however, that wasn't the least of her worries.

Thorin wasn't one to go easy on a beginner (and that wasn't down to his seemingly bad temper with her), and by the end of a long, hard, excruciatingly hot evening, all Ora had to show was one measly, wonky, slightly out of shape bolt.

And she couldn't have been happier.

Ora completely forgot about Thorin's bad temper throughout the evening, she completely forgot about arduous labour Thorin put her through and when she held that pathetic excuse for a bolt in her palm, she couldn't help but grin broadly.

"Well," Thorin began, wiping his forehead as he came up behind Ora, "That's lesson- Umph!"

Before she even realised what she was doing she had turned on him, spinning on the tips of her toes and wrapping her arms firmly around his neck to pull him into a tight embrace.

"Thank you," She said, finding her heart beating unusually fast at their bodies being pushed so tightly up against each other, "thank you so much."

Thorin didn't do anything for a while, and Ora didn't actually care. But, slowly, she felt a pair of strong hands gently place themselves over the small of her back, and a matching pair of strong, thick arms wrap loosely around her.

"You're welcome."

As she pulled away, she planted a soft kiss on his cheek out of thanks. She grinned broadly at him before turning her attention back to the little bolt in her hand. Totally unaware of the ridged king standing before her, and the smirking Dwalin leaning up against a nearby archway.

Until she turned, spotted Dwalin and waved the bolt around like an excited child all over again. Truth was, she was just so over the moon that she finally had a connection with her elder brother again.

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"What are you doing?"

"Baking a cake?"

"Why?"

"Erm, because I'm a baker?"

"Is it for the stall?"

"No."

"Then who's it for?"

"No one, _myself_."

"Oh, spare me!" Ava grabbed Ora's shoulders and span the blonde round so fast she stumbled.

"It's not for anyone, can't I make a cake?" Ora wriggled from Ava's grip and frowned, folding her arms over her chest.

Ava grinned, "Is it for Colborn?"

"No!" Ora snapped, maybe a little too quickly, although the cake wasn't for Colborn, but it was for someone else instead.

"You're baking a cake, you're being all secretive, you're disappearing into thin air several times a week and you're practically glowing with joy. Who is it? Are you courting someone? Oh, Mahal, Ora, you must tell me if you're courting someone!"

"I'm not courting anyone, you troll!" Ora laughed, batting Ava's probing hands away from the icing she was currently mixing. But her cheeks flushed all the same in embarrassment, but at the same time her stomach wretched with guilt. Why was she feeling guilty? She wasn't lying to Ava about not courting anyone, because she wasn't, was she?

No! She wasn't. Although, she certainly couldn't tell Ava that she was baking a cake for the king without having to confess to everything else. Would she one day have to tell her? No, why would she? It's not like the king and her relations were going to mount to anything. That would be foolish! He was her king, he was from the line of Durin, what in the name of Mahal would he want with her? She couldn't even get her head around why the king wanted anything to do with her now.

If he still did…

Despite their hug in the forge a few days ago, the king had made no effort to speak, converse, or even see her. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of any of his company either. She found herself getting a little upset whenever she thought about it, actually. But then she remembered that hug.

The heat of his body against her, and his slightly damp, scorching cheek when she kissed him, and the salt taste she felt on her lips after. Just the thought of it was enough for her squeal and radiate joy.

Okay, she had to admit it, she might officially have a tiny, weeny crush on the king. But nothing she couldn't deal with.

She blinked down at the icing in front of her. She hoped she could deal with it, anyway.

It did upset her that Thorin had changed his tune towards her the last time he'd seen her, and she couldn't help wonder why. And now he hadn't made any effort to even send a message…

She could slap herself. _How foolish!_

He was the king! How dare she get so caught up in him, she had no right to get upset that he had no time for her. She was a mere baker.

She let out a sigh and pulled the two cake sponges towards her and quickly checked their temperature before beginning to pile the icing on the sponges.

"But…" Ava drooled, peering over Ora's shoulder, "What are you going to do about Colborn? He'll be expecting an answer soon, you know?"

Ora sighed, "I know."

She finished off the cake in silence, trying to ignore the guilt crawling around in her stomach like a million angry spiders at the fact she had just lied so deeply to her closest friend.

"What are you doing later?" Ava asked.

"I'm going to how my coat is faring with Anar, she wants to do some measurements."

"And then what?"

"Have dinner, most likely." Ora replied sceptically, knowing that Ava was probing for answers.

"Okay, I'll meet you in the dining all at seven?" Ava followed Ora as she left the small bakery, holding a small basket under her arm.

"Don't get all protective, Ava." Ora laughed, ignoring the 'humph!' sound the Dwarrowdam made as they weaved through the nearly empty markets. It was about five o'clock now, and that meant that most of the Dwarves had already left and gone home.

"I'm not getting protective!" Ava defended crossly, but only made Ora laugh harder.

"_Nosy_ then!"

Ava made another disapproving noise, "I don't like the idea of you keeping secrets from me, Ora."

That hit home. Hard. And Ora let out a loud sigh.

"See! There is something!"

"There isn't, Ava. Honestly, it's nothing important and no one will benefit from the information." Ora turned when Ava stopped trailing along beside her. "What?"

Ava had a mixed expression on her face. She looked torn between hurt, confusion, and awe.

Ava opened her mouth, but quickly shut it again, seemingly changing her mind about something. But eventually she replied, "Nothing." Her face fell a little and she tangled her hands in her skirts. "It's nothing."

"Tell me later, okay?" Ora said reassuringly, lightly knocking Ava on the arm. Ava grinned evilly then, and drew her arm back and punched Ora hard just below her shoulder.

Ora yelped, nearly dropping the basket she was carrying as she cradled her bruising arm. "Ouch!"

"That's for all the secrets!" Ava laughed, before turning and taking her leave, now will a light skip in her step.

Ora huffed, adjusting the basket so it didn't agitate her now aching arm. "Well, I'm glad that's out your system." She muttered to herself before turning and making her way back towards the Royal Wing.

She had no plans to actually go beyond the archway leading up to the high floors, she just intended to give the basket to one of the guards, but, as she neared closer she found that the guards on either side of the archway stopped talking to one another and turned towards her.

"Good afternoon, Lady Ora." They said in unison, both bowing so low their long beards touched the floor.

Ora blinked for a moment, feeling uneasy at the term 'lady'. "You know my name?"

The guards both exchanged a look, "Of course."

"Oh…" Ora hesitated, before gingerly holding out the basket. "Could you possibly… Take this to the king for me, please?"

The guards looked a little confused, then the one with blazing red hair stepped forward, "Why don't you go on yourself, my lady?"

"Oh, please! It's just Ora, no lady here!" She laughed awkwardly, "I mean – I am a _lady_… But not… you know. B-But, I don't really want to go up there," actually, she didn't really want to see Thorin, she was still a little embarrassed at how he was towards her on their last encounter and she didn't want to anger him further if he didn't actually want to see her. Oh, she was so confused.

Of course, she _wanted_ to see him. But at the same time… She didn't.

The guards frowned a little, but the red haired one stepped forward with a nod, "Aye, we'll get it to him lass. What is it? Smells delicious."

"Erm, it's a cake. Just to say thank you to him, and also, tell him I'm sorry… For whatever it is I've done." She turned before she barely finished her sentence, feeling totally wounded. "Good day."

Her walk to the market was a rather uneventful one, filled with a head of mixed emotions.

Oh, Mahal, she feels like a child all over again with silly crushes and infatuations. How had this even happened?

She sighed deeply as she ventured into Anar's shop, and she wasn't surprised to see the Dwarrowdam nowhere to be seen.

"Anar?" She called out, letting her hand swipe over an array of coloured silks hanging neatly on one of the rails, "Are you here?" No sooner had the words left her lips did the female come twirling around the corner, arms laden with clothes and fabrics in a variety of colours and materials.

"Ah! Ora," She grinned over the pile, before promptly dropping the bundle right where she stood. "I assume you're here for your oat?"

She didn't let Ora answer before she disappeared off again towards the back of the shop.

"Aye…" Ora said quietly to herself. She couldn't help but wonder if the king had received her gift yet.

"Here we go…" Anar's happy voice came travelling around the corner before she did. A large, grey bundle in her arms. "I hope you like it! Here, get it on you, and go stand on that stool over their so I can do some alliterations…" She brunette trailed off, not bothering to finish her sentence because she'd began to work. That was something Ora quickly learnt about Anar. Once that girl started her work, she was dead to the rest of the world.

The coat was magnificent; falling over her dress and ending just above her knee. It nipped in slightly at the waist, to execrate her curves and the fabric was a deep, rich grey colour, and the collar – oh, the collar – was so soft in a white, snowy fur.

Anar started fiddling with the stitching at the collar, smacking Ora lightly on the head when the blonde began to snuggle her check into the fur.

Ora asked her what creature the fur came from, and for a moment Ora thought she might answer. But, as Anar opened her mouth her eyes drifted over Ora's shoulder, and they quickly rounded as she gaped like a fish out of water.

Ora turned, and nearly fell off the stool Anar had perched her on.

"L-Lord Balin!" Ora stammered, hopping off her stool before she fell. Poor Anar just stood there, looking totally lost. "What a surprise!" She wanted to ask how exactly he knew she was here, but the small, knowing smile on his lips to her not to ask.

"Aye, I have a message for you." His cheeks rose as his smile grew, and as he stepped further into the shop Ora saw a playful twinkle in his eye.

"And what that might that be? And from who?" Her heart rate accelerated in anticipation.

"It is simply that you are expected in the King's Hall tomorrow at noon, and I think you can imagine who it's from." He winked playfully at her, "Good day, see you tomorrow. Don't be late." He bowed his leave, and then vanished out the door.

Ora and Anar just gaped at the exit.

"What was that about?" Anar asked, coming to stand beside Ora.

"Trust me," She sighed, rubbing her temples, "You don't want to know."

All this was driving her insane. Was it the king? She assumed so. But she hadn't heard anything from him in days, and last time he saw her he barely seemed pleased to be with her. So, surely, Balin was not referring to Thorin. Or was he?

.

.

.

Ora was hesitant to enter the King's Hall the next day, she was undoubtedly nervous to see Thorin again. She had many questions running through her mind, ranging from; did he like the cake? To; was she still _allowed_ to call him Thorin, or was it back to 'your majesty'?

However, just as she was debating running like the wind from Erebor entirely as she hovered around the entrance of the hall, someone snuck up behind her.

"Good afternoon, Ora." Came Colborn's chirpy voice. Ora was so tightly wound up in her own thoughts that when she heard his voice all of a sudden she physically jumped.

Spinning on her heel and clutching at her chest she glared at him, "Colborn!" She hissed, fanning herself, "you scared me!"

"Sorry." He didn't look at all sorry, and in fact he was grinning from ear to ear. Then his face suddenly sobered, "Erm, I was hoping to catch you actually, I was wondering if—"

"Colborn!" This time it was Colborn's turn to flinch as Dwalin rounded the corner. Ora let out an exasperated puff of air. "Get back to your station." He growled, and Ora's temper prickled.

"It's quite all right, Dwalin." Ora said sternly, puffing out her chest, "I spoke to him first."

Dwalin barely spared her a glance, his attention still on a worried looking Colborn as the young Dwarf spluttered his apologies before leaving, head bowed.

Dwalin then began to advance towards Ora and the King's Hall, staring down at her with his hardest stare. However, Ora was riled up already with her glare as equally cold and her arms tightly folded over her chest.

"That was totally unnecessary." She growled as Dwalin came to stand before her, looming over her fiercely.

"Come on, don't want to keep the king waiting." Dwalin ignored her comment and walked straight past her.

If Ora had more bottle (or more authority) she probably would have stamped her foot and held her ground. However, she knew better, and instead she hung her head to conceal the blue look on her face and trailed after him.

"What's wrong with her?" Thorin's grumbling voice was unmistakable, and it was obvious he was talking about her as she stood there like a wet mop, trying to get her point across that she was upset about being verbally manhandled. She was an adult, after all, no one, _absolutely no one_ had the right to interject her in life – let alone her love life. If you could call Colborn a love life…

She didn't hear Dwalin's reply, but she sensed it wasn't good when she heard a pair of heavy footsteps approaching her.

She looked up just in time for Thorin to come to a halt in front of her. He seemed too close, and feeling suddenly nervous she instinctively took a little shuffle backwards. Instantly, she mentally slapped herself and prayed the king hadn't notice. But he did.

The indifferent look on his face tightened somewhat and his brows pulled together into a frown.

"Follow me." He commanded, and without waiting for an answer he walked straight past her.

"Where are we going?" Ora asked, her curiosity getting the better of her and before she knew it she'd completely forgotten that she was supposed to be sulking.

Thorin led her out of the King's Hall and took a sharp right. "I have something to show you." He said.

Ora frowned nervously, taking a quick glance behind her to find that neither Dwalin nor Balin was following. It was just her and the king.

"Oh…" She said softly, taking a few quick steps to try and keep up with his long stride. She glanced up at him, taking in his still furrowed brow and pursed lips. She sighed.

"What is it?"

"What?"

"You just sighed, what's bothering you?"

"Nothing." She thought quickly in an attempt to change the subject. "Did you get the cake?" She could have sworn the edges of his mouth lifted a little.

"Yes, thank you."

"Good…" Her word trailed off when she finally realised where they were going. "Are we going to the tombs?"

"Yes."

Ora suddenly looked alarmed, "But why?"

"Like I said, I have something to show you."

Ora fell silent after that, not having anything to say and she began to feel herself slowly slipping to walk behind Thorin as they began their decent into the pit of the mountain.

It wasn't until they reached the doors of the tombs that Ora snapped.

"Please," She tried desperately to hold her tongue as she stopped her pace, "I don't understand…"

Thorin turned his face its usual indifferent mask. "What don't you understand?"

"W-Why we're here."

"Come and find out." He said, and once again he didn't wait for a reply. He simply turned back around, offering her a good view of his broad, coated back and headed forwards once more.

Ora took a deep breath and followed after him along the path between the tombs and through many adjacent rooms and doorways. Right up until they reached the chamber where her grandfather lay. For a split second, she thought this was some sort of sadist joke. But then she saw the golden plaque that had been placed atop her grandfather's stone resting place.

Ora sent Thorin a confused look, but he simply nodded for her to go see what it was.

She did, albeit hesitantly, and slowly she made her way towards the tomb. But as soon as she was close enough to read what the plaque said, she stopped dead in her tracks. It took her a few moments to compose herself enough to make it the rest of the way towards the coffin, and she practically ran as she did.

Running her fingers over the engraved ruins, carved into the fanciest looking gold she'd ever seen read the words;

'_Jora, son of Pul_

_Noble warrior, benevolent son, devoted brother, honourable teacher_

_May he forever rest in arms of Mahal.'_

Tears sprung to Ora's eyes, and she raised one hand to cup her mouth.

"We sent a search party out so we could bring him home, but it aches me to tell you we could not find his resting place." Said the king, coming up to stand beside her.

"I… I don't know what to say." She replied quickly, her voice shaking as she continued to run her finger over the engravings.

"Does it please you?"

"Please me?" Ora turned to the king, staring up at him with large, glassy eyes, "This is without a doubt the most wonderful, heartfelt thing anyone has ever done for me."

Thorin's lips curved slightly, and he took her free hand in his, brought it up to his lips and lightly kissed the soft skin on top.

Ora's breath caught in her throat at the action, but it wasn't long before her surprise turned into a frown. "I don't understand…"

"What don't you understand?" Thorin's eyes watched her as her attention moved back down to the plaque.

"Why you would do this?"

"Why would I not?"

Ora blinked up at him, quickly wiping away a tear that escaped, "B-because… Because I'd done something wrong, your majesty."

"What have you done wrong?"

"I don't know, but in the forges… In the forges you weren't yourself. Not with me anyway."

Thorin's face sobered, "I apologise, I did not intend to let my mood out on you."

"What was wrong?"

"I had just received some rather displeasing news."

"What was that?" Ora didn't care that she was probing.

Thorin's blue eyes bore into her so hard she felt the heat rising to her cheeks. In just one look it was as though he could strip her right down the core. He got under her skin and pulled right at her heart strings.

Thorin didn't reply for a moment, her simply let his gaze wash over her like a wave, "Tell me, Ora," He began lowly, his velvety voice like a growl, "Did you accept Master Colborn's courtship?"

.

.

.

_OHHHHHHHHH_

_I'm sorry, CLIFF HANGER_

_HAHAHAHHAHAHA_

_Okay, so I don't like this chapter, it's really boring, mish mashy, and all over the place_

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	14. Chapter 13

Ora just stared at Thorin like he'd grown a second head.

"I-I'm sorry?" She gaped, completely confused as to why the king would ask her such a question. Certainly, it was none of his business, but even so, why would he _want_ to know?

"Master Colborn," Thorin repeated, taking a step towards Ora, and for once she didn't take a step back. She was far too stunned to move, let alone process what he was asking her, "He offered you a courtship token, did he not? Did you accept?"

"How do you know?" Silly question, really. But she wasn't to hear him say it.

"Dwalin told me."

"Why would he tell you that?" Ora's heart rate began to accelerate in anticipation.

"Why would he not?"

_Because it's none of your business. _

Ora had no response for that. He was the king, he could ask what he liked. But why would he want to know? She suddenly got a mental imagine of Dwalin and Thorin gossiping about her behind closed doors, maybe even having a jest as they made fun of her. Her blood ran cold.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes. Tell me, did you accept?" She could have sworn he sounded… impatient? Maybe even a little agitated and desperate for her to answer. But she quickly shook of that observation.

Thorin's gaze on her was stern and his body was rigid, but she could see the muscles in his cheeks flexing as his tensed his jaw.

"I haven't given him an answer." She replied hesitantly.

"Are you going to accept?" He pressed.

"I haven't decided." She answered honestly. Of course, she didn't think she would accept, something was stopping her. She didn't love Colborn, she wasn't even attracted to him. Although, sometimes she found herself wishing she was, it would make things so much simpler.

"Why not?"

Ora's defences began to prickle. "I'm sorry, Thorin, but I don't think this is an appropriate time or place to speak about this." She said lowly, trying hard to keep his gaze but she found herself growing hot under his stare.

Thankfully, Thorin too seemed to realise it was not a suitable time for such a discussion, because he backed up slightly, the intensity of his gaze diminishing a little and his shoulders loosened.

"Of course." He said gruffly, nodding towards her. "I'll take my leave."

He turned to leave, but he hadn't gotten far before Ora called out for him. He turned just in time to be pulled into a hug by her.

She cherished the feel of his warm and somewhat cosy body against hers, although, the armour wasn't particularly comfortable to be pressed up against. But all the same she valued it, especially when he too wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tighter against him still, her feet raising off the ground a little.

"Thank you, you've been so kind to me." She whispered into his mane of hair, trying not to become too intoxicated in the smell that was Thorin Oakenshield. Earthy, smoky, and… _homely_.

Thorin didn't reply, but he soon let his arms drop from around her, signalising that the hug was over.

"No." Ora said to his actions, and clung on tighter to him still, standing right on the tips of her toes.

She felt his chest vibrate a little and the deep, rumbling of a chuckle filled the air around her. She pulled away a little, just enough to look at him in the eyes with a somewhat startled look on his face.

He was smiling.

She grinned back at him, and slowly let go.

"I'll see you soon," He said, and Ora couldn't help but grin at him as he turned, revelling in the promise that laced his words.

_Oh, Ora, you fool. You're only going to get hurt._

_._

_._

_._

Ora was in a good mood for the rest of the day, even when she joined her friends in the dining hall later that evening she was whistling a merry tune.

"Well, someone's happy." Ava grinned, eyeing Ora as she swanned over to her small group of friends.

"Must have been that cake." Ora jested, winking at her friend as she plopped down beside her.

"What cake?" Asked Marg, not looking so impressed at Ora's sunshine attitude, in fact, she looked a little sceptical.

Ora didn't notice the concern on her friends face though, and instead she just let out a small laugh, "Oh nothing, I made a cake the other day, is all. But Ava thought it was _for_ someone." She went to laugh again, but she caught Marg and Uli exchanging a worried look. "What?" She asked, feeling her heart deflate in her chest like someone had just sat on it.

"Nothing."

"No, tell me." Ora watched all three of her friend's faces. Marg looked concerned and annoyed, Uli worried and Ava looked guilty. "Ava…" Ora growled, knowing that she wouldn't be able to keep a secret if her life depended on it. However, someone else's voice rang out instead of Ava's.

"Well, well, well," Fraugh's voice drooled from behind Ora, and instantly the blonde swivelled in her seat.

She sighed, "Not now, Fraugh, please."

Fraugh looked far too pleased about something, which only meant trouble.

"Or what?" She spat (literally), leaning down to meet Ora's eye level as she sat glaring up at the Foul Dwarf, "Are you going to cry to the king?"

Instantly Ora stood up, nearly knocking Ava off her stool as she reached for her. "Excuse me? You should know better than to speak ill of the king."

Fraugh let out her booming, honking laugh, catching the attention of some nearby Dwarves as she did so.

"So, tell me, Ora," She began matter-of-factly, trying to pull an innocent face. But instead she just looked like a snarling Warg, "What's it like to be the king's little whore?"

Ora's face turned from placid exasperation to horror in less than a second. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, don't you try your little naïve act with me, you _wench_."

"I'm no such thing." Ora growled through gritted teeth. Behind her she felt Ava stand to her side.

"Leave it, Fraugh." She said surprisingly coolly, she didn't sound at all bothered.

Ora turned to Ava, her eyes glassy and staring at her longest friend like she was a total stranger. "You knew about this?"

"I thought they were just rumours." She muttered, avoiding Ora's gaze.

Ora just stared at her like she'd grown a second head, all the while Fraugh laughed.

"I can't believe you haven't heard them, Ora!" Fraugh hooted, a snarl set firmly on her pig like face, "But then again, you've been far too busy keeping your legs open to pay attention."

Ora didn't know what to say, but she displaced an expression of sheer horror as she stared between Ava who was looking at her feet, and Fraugh who was standing their cackling like some sort of witch.

"I'm not some common whore. You're conceiving lies, Fraugh."

Fraugh didn't respond, she was too busy laughing to care what Ora had just said to her. Ora stared at Ava for one last time, hoping and praying that the Dwarrowdam who she'd helped and cherished all these years would _do_ something other than just stare at her feet.

"I can't believe this." She whispered, before turning her back on her best friend and marching back through the dining hall.

.

.

.

"You can't mope around forever, Ora."

"Yes, I can."

"Ora…" Giora tried pulling at the covers Ora had pulled right over her entire body.

It had been three days since the incident in the hall, and since then Ora had not left her room. She'd been telling everyone she'd caught the flu, however, Giora could see right through his sister's lie.

"Ava was looking for you again."

"Good for her. Shame I've got the flu."

"Ora…" Giora sighed again, and suddenly Ora felt his weight on the bed disappear. For a long moment she though he'd left, however, when a pair of large, strong hands shot under the duvet covers at the other end of the bed and wrapped sharply around her feet she let out a loud squeak. Giora gave one hard tug and easily pulled Ora through her bed and out onto the floor the other side with a loud 'thump!'

She growled at Giora, who simply stood there with his arms folded across his chest, not looking impressed at all with his little sister.

"She's sorry, Ora."

"So? She believed those _rumours_." She shuddered.

"She's your closest friend."

"If she was truly my closest friend then she should know me well me enough to know those rumours are lies! Or, at least she could have spoken to me about them." Ora snapped as she pulled herself off the floor.

Giora sighed, knowing that she was right. "But, Ora, she was probably worried that they could have been true. I mean, in the name of Mahal, Ora. The king!"

Ora's shoulders slumped, "And don't I know it." She muttered to herself as she turned towards her dresser. Now she was up, and most likely no longer allowed to have any more peace, so she might as well do something productive and see how her coat is fairing with Anar.

"What?"

"What? Oh, I said I'm going to the market." Ora quickly lied, and she immediately shuddered. Who was she becoming? "Will you come with me?"

Giora sighed and agreed.

Ora quickly shooed him away so she could get ready in peace. Although, she certainly took her time. She didn't want to actually leave her chambers, I mean, there were rumours going round that she was some sort of _whore_ for the _king_? How had that even come about? Of course, a few Dwarves probably saw her spending time with him, like in the forge, but that was completely innocent behaviour.

What if the king was to find out about these rumours? Oh, Mahal, what if he thought _she'd_ started them?

She ran her fingers through her hair and pulled slightly out of stress.

_There was no way she could ever face him again._

That thought made something in her chest crack.

She quickly finished getting dressed and met Giora waiting impatiently for her outside her room.

"What are you going to say to her if you see her?" Giora asked as they headed along the hall from their home. By 'her' he was obviously referring to Ava.

"Nothing." Ora replied bluntly, "I'm not ready to speak with her just yet."

"Durin's beard, Ora. You're as stubborn as an ass when you want to be."

"No, Giora. I'm hurt."

"So what if she wounded your pride a little, Ora? You're a big girl now, you'll survive."

Ora rolled her eyes, "I know I'll survive, but like _you_ said she's my closest friend – or supposed to be – friends are supposed to stick together, not let one another be subjected to rumours and humiliation."

Giora fell silent for a long time, but by the look on his face he was thinking intently for something to say. However, in the end, he didn't need to say anything, for someone else's voice rang out for her.

"Ora! There you are, we've been looking everywhere for you!"

Ora turned and immediately she wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere. But it was too late, princess Dis had spotted her and was already well on her way towards her, a large grin on her face.

"Looking for me, my lady?" Ora tried to offer her best smile.

"Of course, dear. No one's seen hide nor hair of you for days!" Dis stood before Ora in all her royal glory. Her hair and side burns were neatly kept with interweaving's of jewels and crystals, and her gown was even more so heavily encrusted in more gems than Ora could possibly imagine. "Can't be losing sight of our favourite baker now, can we?"

"I-I suppose not." Without even another word Dis grabbed hold of Ora's arm and steered off into another direction. Leaving Giora to trail behind them, a look of confusion on his face. "Erm, Lady Dis, where are we going?"

"For you, just call me Dis." Dis winked down at Ora, "And to go see the king, of course!"

"I can't!" Ora nearly yelped when Dis ground to a sudden halt.

"Why?"

"B-because I can't see him."

"Why not?" Dis furrowed her brow, and Ora could tell she was trying to keep a tab on her temper. Oh, Mahal…

"I have other engagements…" Ora tried, knowing full well that she was being incredible rude.

Dis rolled her eyes, her annoyance vanishing and instead being taken over by her usual jolly expression, "Oh, Ora, let's not be foolish now." She continued on her way again, dragging Ora along with her. "Let's pretend you didn't just say that. After all, what could be more important than seeing the king? You know how he gets with you, dear, let's not anger him further."

Ora's eyes popped and she nearly tripped over her own feet, "He's angry with me? Oh, Mahal, what have I done?"

"Don't worry, Ora. He'll be fine with you, I'm sure."

"But you don't understand, Dis, I really can't see him."

Dis ground to a halt once more, swinging Ora around to stand before her and gripping her hard by her shoulders. "You've accepted that little guard's courtship, haven't you?" Her face was expressionless, but something flickered like a flame in her eyes.

Ora flustered, completely startled. How did everyone know about this? What about her life was so interesting to them that made all the blue bloods want to pick at it and control it. Ora's emotional thermometer continued to spike. She was in no mood to be manhandled and mentally probed.

"No, I haven't. How do you know about that?"

Dis straightened up with a sigh, and she looked as though she was going to say something, but Ora quickly cut her off. Her walls were crumbling, and her usual thick skin had been completely warn away by the heart ache over her best friend.

"Please, Dis, please just tell me what's going on. My life seems to be on display for you all to watch and… I can't take it."

For a long moment Dis just watched Ora's deteriorating expression, and then she sighed.

"Come on, Ora." She said in response, and once again – although this time more gently – she began to lead Ora towards the King's Hall.

However, when Ora soon realised they were going to the King's private study she quickly turned to Dis and whispered; "my brothers still here."

Dis shoot a look over her shoulder, "Seems like a nice lad," She watched as Giora plodded along behind them with a large frowned, "leave him with me, Ora. I'll get him some pie."

Ora smiled thankfully and nodded, and she let Dis push her on ahead to travel the rest of the way to the king's study alone. When she got there, she knocked and waited patiently on the door, silently praying no one would answer.

"Erm, good afternoon, Thorin." Ora said tentatively when the door swung violently open, displaying a rather grumpy looking king.

Without a word, Thorin stepped to one side, indicating for her to enter. Ora suppressed a sigh, and slowly slunk in, but not without sparing a quick glance over her shoulder to check to see if anyone was watching her.

Thorin seemed to pick up on this, for he quickly said; "What was that?"

"What was what?" She asked, watching him as he shut the door behind her and headed back towards his desk.

He didn't say a word until he'd sat back down. Ora couldn't help but notice that his study was more of a mess than usual, and how exhausted he looked.

Thorin ignored her question, and instead told her to sit in the chair in front of his desk. She did slowly, trying to avoid his penetrating gaze the whole time. Although, that was rather difficult bearing in mind Thorin's presence quite literally filled the entire room.

"You look tired." She said, and she quickly squeaked when Thorin shot her a glare, "Just an observation, not a criticism," She quickly added.

Slowly, Thorin took his attention back to some of the papers on his desk, however when he glanced back up a few moments later to find Ora missing from her seat he quickly straightened up.

"What are you doing?" Came a voice from over his shoulder. Ora was peering over him, not caring when her long blonde hair fell over her shoulder and Thorin caught a strong smell of berries.

"Paper work," He replied, watching as Ora began to sift through piles of paper. "What are you doing?"

"Tidying up! Honestly, Thorin, you live in squalor." She picked up a burnt piece of parchment and turned to him, "what is this?"

"Ah, I believe that's Kili's doing."

Ora snickered, "Quite the budding arsonist, isn't he?"

"Aye, although I think Fili is scared of fire."

"Oh?" Ora raised her brow, turning back to Thorin to find him expression had hardened.

"Yes, ever since the battle." He turned his attention back to his paperwork.

Ora let her shoulders slump slightly. "I have something ask you, Thorin." She said quietly after a long silence.

Thorin looked up at her, his brows a little furrowed.

"Actually no," She said quickly, hurrying to stack the papers she was holding before straightening up and puffing out her chest. "I have a bone to pick with you, actually."

Thorin leant back in his chair, watching her with what could have been classed as amusement in his eyes, but his face was still as stern as ever. "Go on…"

"Why am I here? What is the meaning of all this? You're questionably kind to me, but also you get short tempered with me whenever I do something that displeases you, and most of all, why is my life on display for all of you royals to tinker with?" She tried so hard to keep herself calm, but losing Ava was the last straw.

Thorin stood and took a step towards her. Ora's head hung low, but when the king placed his first finger and thumb under her chin he pulled her head to look up at him. His cool blue eyes washed over her, and she felt her knees turn to jelly.

"Where's all this come from?" He asked her, removing his hand from her chin to brush a stray strand of hair away from her eyes.

Ora was even more confused now than ever. Thorin Oakenshield was quite blatantly showing her signs of affection. But, no, that was _impossible_.

She took a step back, "There are rumours spreading…" She said quietly.

"What sort of rumours?"

"Not very nice ones. And I'd like to put a stop to them."

"I can see what I can do." He replied, and just like that he turned away again.

"Urgh!" Ora couldn't help it, the sound of annoyance simply boiled over and spewed out without her meaning to.

Immediately Thorin turned back to her again, looking concerned.

"This conversation is not over!" She fumed, feeling the urge to stamp her foot like a little Dwarfling. "Don't turn away from me like that!"

Thorin loomed down over her, folding his thick arms over his impressive chest and raising his brow. Ora was a little surprised by how cool and collected his still looked, he almost looked… understanding?

"What else would you like to talk about?"

"You've completely ignored the fact that my entire life is being manhandled!"

Thorin almost looked like he was about to laugh, which only prickled her temper more.

"Manhandled?" He asked, turning back to his expressionless self. "How so?"

"_Why_ does everyone know about Colborn, for starters? I fail to see how that is anyone's business other than my own, or whoever else I choose to share it with." Thorin's face remained an unreadable. "I want some answers."

Thorin stared down at her, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Ora could have screamed, "Dwalin! Last time I was speaking with Colborn he literally popped out the ground and told him to shoo!"

"From what I gathered Colborn was not at his post, totally reasonable."

Ora could have popped.

"Fine, secondly, how does Dis know about it?"

Thorin looked like he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes, "My sister is nosy; she likes to know everything."

The next thing Ora said she regretted almost instantly. But she was so emotional and wound up.

"Then why did she spark like a flame when I told her I'd accepted Colborn's courtship?"

Bad move, Ora, bad move.

"_You've what_?" Thorin's arms dropped from his chest and he immediately took several intimidating strides towards her. Ora flinched when he quickly reached her, resisting the urge to squeeze her eyes shut and start praying.

"Shouldn't I of?" She said, her voice suddenly low and shaking with rage.

Thorin flexed his jaw.

"Why not, your majesty?" She asked, letting her temper get the better of her, but right now she didn't care. Right now she blamed him and his little company for the ghastly rumours spreading about her and the falling of her friendships. She was beyond hurt.

Ora didn't exactly get the answer she was expecting.

.

.

.

_DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUN_

_Heheheheh_

_I'm so mean!_

_Okay, soooooo I hope you like the chapter, I grew happier with it towards the end, albeit it a little boring. The beginning to the chapter I don't really like but bluh _

_Admittedly this chapter is a little bit of a filler to set the pace for a few plots I'm going to follow through with_

_Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews! You make me soosososoosso happy when I read them!_

_Please keep your comments up, you all make my day and make me smileeeeeeeeeee (:_

_Thank you so much, love you all xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_


	15. Chapter 14

"_Why not, your majesty?" She asked, letting her temper get the better of her, but right now she didn't care. Right now she blamed him and his little company for the ghastly rumours spreading about her and the falling of her friendships. She was beyond hurt._

_Ora didn't exactly get the answer she was expecting._

"Because," The king snarled, stepping ever closer to her and looming down on her like some sort of predator and she the pray. Ferocity burned dangerously in his eyes, and pure anger swept around him lime a storm. "Because, you are not his to court."

Ora just blinked at him for a long moment, for a split second her curiosity got the better of her and the shock of his words quite literally stomped all anger out of her. Then the words sank in, and her rage flared right back up.

"Not _his_ to court?" She repeated, utterly gobsmacked.

"Exactly, I'm glad you understand." Thorin began to make his way back towards his desk, once again signalising the discussion was over. As if that was it, as if he'd told her the simplest thing in the world and not that he was telling her how to live her life.

"Wait a moment, I do not believe you have the right to tell me how to live my life. You cannot tell me—"

Thorin's authoritative voice cut her off sharply, although he did not turn to look at her when he spoke. He wasn't necessarily yelling, but his voice was loud and dominating, "May I remind you, Ora, that I am your _king_. I can tell you whatever I want, and I forbid you to accept Colborn's or anyone else's courtship!"

Ora just stood there, like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over her, and then thrown the bucket at her too.

"What?" She whispered, eyes glassy, feeling like her freedom had been ripped to shreds.

Thorin turned around then, and instantly his face softened, but his tone remanded sharp, "I forbid you to engage in the act of courtship with anyone."

"But… But why? What have I ever done to you that makes you want me to be so lonely? What have I done to deserve this?" Ora looked at him as though he was a stranger, and she flinched back when Thorin took a step towards her. Instantly, he paused.

"You have done nothing wrong, Ora, and I do not wish for you to be lonely. I—"

"Enough!" She suddenly shouted, finding her temper once more. "You may be my king but you do not _own_ me, I do not see what pleasure you get out of dictating my life for me! Whether I have to obey you or not you have no right to control me!" Ora didn't understand, you couldn't get her head around what was happening. Why was the king forbidding her from all courtships? There was no sense to it, why?

"Go." He growled.

"What?"

"I said go! Leave! Now!"

Ora didn't need to be told a third time. Picking up the front of her skirts she quickly fled the room, without looking back and completely ignoring the king when he shouted after her.

Ora didn't cry. Oh, Mahal, she knew better than to _cry_, and she would be foolish to do so over the king. Why would she, after all? She had nothing to cry about. Of course, the king had 'forbidden' her to fall for any act of courtship, but at the moment she wasn't necessarily planning any, although, the breach of her freedom shot through her chest like an arrow. However, Mahal only knows that if the time came for her to court, no one would stop her. Not even the king. So, for now, she brushed that aside.

What truly bothered her was _why_ he'd said that? It's not like he wanted to court her, was it?

Ora promptly tripped over her own feet at the thought.

Nonsense! Utter nonsense! There is no way in the name of Durin himself that the _king_ – _**the king**_ – would have any intentions of courting her, a mere baker!

Ora stopped her pace immediately, letting possibilities and thoughts rush through her head, and immediately her temper began to spike again. The cheek of him!

"Oh, no!" She groaned quietly. Admittedly, it all made sense, but at the same time, she could not believe it. Well, either way, Thorin had some serious work cut out for him if he ever wanted to even speak to her again.

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For the past two days, Ora had done a rather impressive job of hiding from the majority of Erebor, either hiding away in the bakery kitchen, or hiding away in her chambers. Granted, it was not a life she could uphold, as already she was growing weary of her lack of free range, however at that moment it was better than being caught up with either Ava or the king.

She was a little undecided on how she felt about the king's lack of attempts to converse with her. She thought that maybe she'd chased him away for good after their argument in his study, she felt a little triumph at that fact, bearing in mind how much he'd hurt her, but, there was also something else she felt in the pit of her chest. In fact, it wasn't until dinner on the third day that Ora was proved catastrophically wrong.

"Ora?"

Once again, for the third time she completely ignored Ava who sat in their usual spot, looking hopefully up at her and lightly patting the bench beside her. But, as tradition for the last three days Ora completely ignored the brunette and her other two _friends_ and brushed straight past them, trying not to pay attention to the breaking in her chest when she saw the hurt look on Ava's face.

Although, she did enjoy the fact she was getting a taste of her own medicine.

Instead, Ora made her way towards the table of the furthest wall and plopped her plate down in front of Anar.

Even though this was the third time she'd done such a thing, Anar still appeared startled at Ora's sudden appearance.

"How was your day?" Ora asked Anar casually, already preparing to tuck into her lamb. Truth be told, she kept sparing worried glances towards the dining hall entrance, only half paying attention to what Anar was saying. Since the disagreement with the king, Ora had been arriving to the dining hall early, and leaving before the royals were usually due to eat. However, today she'd been late finishing up at the stall and therefore late getting her dinner.

"And then I said 'no, you fool, that's a bobby pin!" Anar began to laugh loudly at whatever story she'd just said, leaving poor Ora staring blankly at her, totally not following at all.

"I'm sorry, Anar…" Ora quickly mumbled when Anar glared at her for not laughing at what seemed to be a joke, "I wasn't listening."

Anar simply huffed, but she quickly got over it. Ora quickly learned that Anar was a shy Dwarf, but once you'd cracked the thick shell exterior she was actually really very sweet, although still a little bit tough… A little like a toffee.

"Is everything all right?" Anar asked sceptically as she watched Ora glance at the large clock that hung up behind the head table before promptly wolfing down the rest of her foot.

"Yeash." She replied through a mouth full of potatoes. She quickly swallowed. "I'm just late, is all, I'll see you tomorrow."

Anar frowned, but nodded all the same, a loose strand of hair falling from behind her ear. "Okay," She replied slowly.

"Great, bye!" And just like that Ora was hurrying away again, wishing she hadn't had that last mini potato when her stomach churned a little at her sudden movements.

She'd just escaped the dining hall and begun to turn down a passage when she saw a familiar crowd striding towards the dining hall and in her direction. She quietly cursed under her breath, and turned on her heel as quickly as she could to hurry back around the corner and back out of sight. But it was too late, she'd already been spotted.

"Ora!" Dwalin's deep voice rolled down the hallway like a flood.

Immediately Ora halted, freezing with fear. Slowly, she turned towards the advancing gaggle of blue bloods.

"Good evening…" She said slowly, trying to ignore the cold gaze of a certain Dwarf king. However, she did still manage to catch Dis giving him a sharp elbow as they approached.

Ora tried to take a step towards the wall, in hope that they would just breeze straight past her. But, unfortunately, the king seemed to have other ideas and while the rest of his unit briskly passed her he stopped in front of her.

"Good evening." He said a little stiffly.

Ora avert her eyes to the floor and mumbled her own greeting.

She heard Thorin sigh loudly, and before she realised what was happening Thorin had place his finger and thumb under her chin and tilted her head up towards him.

"I want to apologise for how I reacted the other night… It was… Totally unreasonable of me, and I am sorry for that."

Ora blinked up at him, not having the guts or the willpower to remove her face from his warm, rough fingers. That annoyed her.

"I admit I did not react well to the news of your courtship, and…" He finally dropped his hand, "I want you to know you may carry on with my blessing, as long as you can forgive me."

Ora's eyes widened a little and she very nearly laughed right in his face. Not because it was humorous, oh no, simply because of how surprised she was at what he was saying. He was the king (just as he'd reminded her) and he had no reason to apologise to her.

"You're the king," She said, "You should not be saying sorry."

"I still do have morals, Ora, very strong ones at that, and I know when I am out of line. So, please, for my peace of mind will you forgive me?"

Ora shook her head, bowing it slightly to conceal her smile. Her mood was totally uplifted, "Are you truly sorry?" She asked him.

"Yes." Came his reply in that velvety voice Ora was beginning to strain hard to resist.

"Then I think I can forgive you. But, I fear you will not forgive me…" She wasn't a hundred percent sure if she forgave him, after all, it would take a lot more than a few weepy words to win her trust back over. She was a female after all, and she could certainly hold onto his mistakes for as long as it seemed necessary. But, at the end of the day, she was responsible for how he'd reacted, it she hadn't lied… So, truthfully, she was too partially to blame. She had been the spark that ignited the fire.

Thorin openly frowned, "Whatever for?"

Ora pursed her lips for a moment, before quickly deciding that the best way to deal with this is to just spit it out and get it over and done with.

"I'm not actually courting Colborn. I am sorry Thorin for lying, but I didn't realise you would…" She couldn't find the right words, "object so… boldly. I was angry and hurt. I am sorry." She held Thorin's gaze the entire time she spoke, watching as she saw his pupil's dilate and contract, and she could practically hear the clogs turning in his head as he processed what she'd just said to him.

Thorin's face remained painfully indifferent, and Ora pleaded with Mahal to give her some sigh that the king wasn't going to exile her right there and then.

"So, you're not engaging in courtship?" He repeated finally.

"No."

"Or any other relations of such nature?"

Ora frowned a little at the lack of care for personal boundaries. Although, seeing as she'd just admitted to quite openly and shamelessly lying to the king's face, she thought that she at least owed him some truth.

"No." She replied slowly.

And then much to her utter surprise, the king broke into a smile. In fact, the biggest smile she'd ever seen him bare.

She blinked up at him a few times, thinking to herself that she must be dreaming because there was no way the king was smiling down at her like that. He looked so handsome, too.

"You're not angry?" She asked carefully.

Thorin shook his head, "No. I am relieved."

Her earlier theory of the king returning her feelings began to bubble up to the surface again, and this time she struggled to keep it at bay.

"You are?" She asked, letting herself get swept away by the newly found shining in his eyes. Her heart quite literally skipped a beat when he took a step towards her, their bodies only a few inches apart now.

"Extremely so." Thorin then reached up and lightly stroked a stray piece of hair away from her face, letting his finger linger right on her jaw line.

She couldn't help herself, and her heart raced when she tilted her head into his touch. Thorin's handed turned to cup her cheek, letting his thick thumb trail over her slowly tinting cheek and his calloused palm graze ever so slightly over her soft skin. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, letting her eyes linger dangerously on his tempting lips.

Her mind was racing, although, nothing made sense and her brain was unable to process a single thought. Her entire being tingled, and she was thoroughly aware that it was the feeling of all her common sense leaving her body. Thorin's gaze left her eyes and travelled lower to her lips, and immediately her heart rate sped up.

_Oh, Mahal, Ora! This is the __**king**__!_

And just like that, just as she felt her king trail his large thumb over her plump lips she snapped out of her estrogen fuel trace, backing up a step until she felt the cold, mountain wall behind her.

Thorin seemed to snap back away too, and he instantly straightened up, just as Ora started sprouting all sorts of nonsense.

"I'm so so-sorry, your majesty, I don't know what came over me! I didn't mean to—"

Thorin held up his hand, his face no longer its usual stoic expression, but he now looked a little tender when his crystal eyes washed over her.

"It's been awhile since you've had a forging lesson," He noted matter-of-factly, "tomorrow at five o'clock."

All Ora could do was nod dumbly, watching in silence as the king inclined his head towards her before taking his leave. She kept her gaze set on his back right up until he turned the corner at the end of the passage way. Ora let out a deep breath that she wasn't aware she had been holding, suddenly feeling the sting of sudden air filling her lungs.

"Oh, Mahal," She whimpered, pressing her palm to her forehead and finally leaning right back onto the stone wall, "How did this happened?"

She would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind to miss that sort of advance, but now… Now it was so clear, she was becoming acutely aware of the gravity of the situation.

_**If**_ the king did truly possess feelings for her, what could that mean? She was just a baker, what in the name of Durin would the King Under The Mountain want with _her_? He had the option to court – oh, Mahal, **courting**! – any lady in the court that he wanted, he could court any blue blood, noble, warrior, high born, posh Dwarrowdam he wanted!

So as one would inspect with such an implication as this one, Ora, no matter how painfully obvious the signs were, still couldn't believe it. She now saw it, but she failed to understand why or how. She was just a baker! There was no way she would be suitable to be the king's consort – or any of the like, for that matter. He should choose someone on his own level! She knew nothing of politics, or royalty, or even the correct way to hold a folk!

Unless… He had no intentions to court her, but in fact simply woo her into his chambers…

Ora's heart sunk at that, feeling suddenly like a slab of meat to be hounded.

But, there was a little voice in the back of her head nagging at her that was no so, and that he would not be making such an effort, nor putting up with her back chat and sharp tongue if he simply wanted to bed her. There were many Dwarrowdams in Erebor that would leap at the chance to lay with him, so it was foolish to think he'd waste so much time and energy on her.

Ora rubbed her temples, feeling her head begin to ache under the strain.

The bottom line was, the king had intentions with her, whether she understood it or not. Whether she chose to believe it or not (which she didn't, only her voice of reason was believing it, every other cell in her body was laughing at her foolishness), or whether she chose to flow with it or not.

Ora sighed, pushing herself off and away from the wall. There was only one thing she could do, and that was ask him what in the name of Durin he wanted with her. Tomorrow, she would ask him straight up, so he couldn't avoid the question, make up an excuse or even turn it around on her. She would corner him if she had to, no matter what, tomorrow, shall be the day of answers.

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"He's late…" Ora mumbled for the fourth time in fifteen minutes. She was waiting at the entrance to the forge, exactly where she had been waiting last time she met him. It was coming up to twenty past five – or so the large clock above the archway was telling her, anyway.

Of course, Thorin was most likely to have been caught up in some sort of political meeting, or even busy chasing Fili or Kili round. She'd always assumed that being a king he would always be on time, but then again, he was a busy man.

However, another fifteen minutes came and went, and Ora was soon enough growing agitated and uneasy. Where was he? Had he changed his mind about seeing her, or teaching her? If so, then what were his advances yesterday all about?

Unless…

Another fifteen minutes rolled by, and by now Ora was sitting on the floor, her chin in her palm with a fixed bored expression on her face. Although she was trying to stop it, realisation was slowly beginning to dawn on her. What if the king realised how foolish he was being after yesterday's incident and has decided no longer fraternize with her? What if there little moment was like a slap in the face with a wet fish for the king, a wakeup call and a brisk pull back to reality on just how silly he was being?

By the time an hour had come and gone, that theory was set in stone for Ora. He wasn't coming, he'd made a fool of her, and she felt a tiny piece of her heart fall away a little.

How could she have been so blind? Of course the king wouldn't want anything to do with her! Look at her! She's just a baker, she was silly to ever imagine the king wanted any more than maybe a little bit of mockery, you know, to keep things interesting in the court.

Ora sighed and pulled herself up the wall so that she stood again, and slowly she began to slink away back to her chambers, feeling emotionally wrecked and in no mood to have dinner.

She thought it a little harsh, even for the king, to mock her and leave her like that so close to something he knew was so important to her. He knew how important learning to forge was to her, so why would he taunt her with it? Okay, she understood why he wouldn't want to be around her, but to break her up like that? Even that was a low blow.

But, she should have seen it coming, and although her pride was wounded, and she felt undoubtedly humiliated, she still kept her head surprisingly high.

When she finally got into bed that evening, she immediately tangled herself up within the covers, and fell into a surprisingly deep sleep, albeit a restless one.

However, when Giora shook her away at Mahal only knows what unholy hour of the night she nearly beat him.

"Ora! Wake up, you Goblin!" Giora snickered lowly, keeping his voice barely a whisper as he tightly shook her.

"What is it? You Troll!" Ora tried to pull her bed covers back over herself as Giora tried to take them away. "Go away!"

"There's someone here to see you!" When he started giggling like a little girl, Ora immediately sat up, a little startled and looking a right state with her hair all over the place and sleep more or less stamped all over her face.

"Who?"

"He's in the main room, but, please Ora, sort your hair out. You look like you've been struck by lightning." With that, Giora gave her a pointed look and promptly left, leaving Ora to fly around her bedroom in search of some ribbon to tie her unruly hair back with and a robe to cover herself up with. Honestly, she had no idea who would be sitting in her front room, but when she stepped out into the light of the fire, and saw the Dwarves face illuminated by the flames, she very nearly keeled right over.

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_I'm sosoososososososo sorry for this chapter, but this is the THIRD draft I did. I'm sorry for OOC thorin, and I'm sorry for door mat Ora._

_Waaaaaaaaah_

_I really don't like this chapter! Don't hate me! I'm sorry!_

_But thank you sososoosososo much for all of your amazingly lovely reviews on my other chapters! You're all so kind and lovely! Thank you so much!_

_Please let me know what you think of this chapter, and hopefully the next will be better! I'm getting a little itchy to pull Ora and Thorin together, although, every time I do so Thorin comes out OOC. I'm trying to get Ora to see compassionate, and although she looks like she's forgiven Thorin right off the bat, I can assure you that she hasn't!_

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	16. Chapter 15

Ora just gaped at the Dwarf in her main room.

It wasn't until he slowly stood and began to move towards her, she managed to regain her bearings and somehow, quite literally, squeak out:

"My Lord Balin, what are you doing here? It's a little late, don't you think?" As she spoke, her eyes shifted to the wooden clock sitting upon the mantelpiece above the dying fire. It was two o'clock in the morning. Ora frowned. Why was Giora still up?

"Aye, it is, lassie, and I'm sorry for the intrusion. It's just..." He trailed off a little, white eyebrows knitting together in concern and his lips turned downwards at the corners. "The king wishes to see you."

Ora huffed loudly.

I suppose that confirms it then. She was just being groomed to be some sort of bed warmer, well, she'd be damned if she was going to live up to those rumours. Besides, Thorin had completely left her like a fool earlier that very day.

In response Ora folded her arms tightly over her chest. "I'm sorry, m'Lord, but it is late, and-"

"It is the Gold Sickness, lass." Balin cut her off, his tone as grave as his face.

Ora's arms dropped, and guilt churned in her stomach. "Oh." Was all she could muster. "Is that why...?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so, he has been in his chambers all day. He's not in a good state."

"And he wants to see _me_?" Ora blinked, wrapping her robe around her tighter and picking nervously at one of the fraying hems of her sleeve.

"I'm sorry, lass, he insisted."

Ora's stomach churned uneasily, "Well, all right then. I-I suppose..."

"Come then." And without another word, and without giving Ora a chance to ask if she could change from her night clothes, Balin brushed briskly past her and towards the front door.

Just before Ora turned, she spotted Giora leaning around the kitchen door, a confused expression on his face. She just shrugged, pretending not to understand either, before following Balin like a lost sheep out the door.

The pair didn't speak a word as they ascended from the common quarters and towards the Royal Wing, although Ora wanted to ask many questions she decided against it solely based that by the solemn look on Balin's face he hardly seemed in the best of moods to answer her endless questions. So, instead, she concentrated on her feet, and how they were about to fall off due to the freezing stone floor. She began to wish she'd bothered to put some shoes on, or at least socks.

They soon ventured into a part of Erebor Ora had never been to, and it was quickly apparent to her that these were indeed the royals private quarters. She quickly shuffled closer to Balin, feeling acutely out of place in her night dress and well worn robe. Even in the low light, the walls glistened with bands and veins of gems, jewels and precious metals, all winding and displayed in intricate patterns and shapes.

When Balin came to a stop before a large, thick, oak door with iron bands and gold detailing Ora nearly made a run for it, realising this was the king's private chambers. Balin knocked twice and when a low, grumbling, although somewhat distant voice called them forth from inside, Ora grabbed Balin's arm as his hand raised towards the handle.

Noting Balin's questionable, and concerned look, Ora said in a whisper; "I can't go in there."

"Why not?" He asked, still frowning.

"Because, well, for starters, I am in my night dress, and secondly it is hardly appropriate for me to just waltz into his chambers at this hour." Honestly, she was being selfish and thinking about those ghastly rumours and the effect this may have on them. As far as she knew, no one had seen her walking with Balin towards the Royal Wing. But that was beside the point. She was still sore about earlier, even though the king had a just reason not to make their engagement, but someone could have come and informed her, surely? The bottom line was, in fact, that she felt uneasy, she felt nervous, and she was beginning to feel more and more like a pawn in a game of chess she had no control over.

Balin's face softened, and a look of understanding twinkled in his eyes, "Don't fret, dear." And just like that, with speed she didn't realise the old Dwarf still possessed he pulled open the door and shoved her inside, and when she turned to instinctively flee he closed the door sharply and stood barring her way, smiling triumphantly up at her.

Ora sighed, slumping her shoulders and biting her tongue to stop it saying something sharp. When she turned back to the room, however, she was quite literally blown away. The main room was bigger than her entire house; the stone floor, laced with veins of gold was covered by a thick, plush, intricately and skilfully embroidered rug. She quickly moved to stand on it, relaxing a little more now her feet weren't stinging with cold. The walls were decorated in the same fashion as the rest of the Wing, with precious stones and gems embedded within, although, here the light of the full fire caused them to flicker and glow. But, it was not the elaborate tapestries or expensive looking furnishings that caught her eye the most, in fact, it was the large window that nearly ran along the entire outer wall. Her eyes glazed over it, although in the night there was hardly much to see, she could just about make out the balcony beyond.

Her house did not have windows, just like most of the kingdom, it was only those of greater importance, or those who lived in the higher tiers of the mountain who did.

But, it wasn't until her gaze shifted towards the unnecessarily large fire that she caught sight of the king. He was lounging in one of the large, ox blood red armchairs, his crystal blue eyes watching her so intently she nearly jumped when she noticed.

"Good... Morning?" Ora said hesitantly, her eyes shifting to the clock over the mantel piece and taking another note of the unholy hour.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Miss Ora."

It looked as though the king was expecting an answer of some kind, maybe even for her to tell him it was no bother, or even _her pleasure_, but instead, she couldn't restrain the frown she threw at him.

Thorin sighed, and rubbed his temples. Ora's expression softened when she notice just how exhausted the king looked. He looked strained, unwell, completely fatigued, and she just didn't have the heart to bury the sympathy she felt towards him.

He dragged his hand down his face before pushing himself up from the armchair. He gestured towards the lounger beside him. "Please, sit."

With a slight scowl still embedded into her little round face she hesitantly slipped silently towards him, the only noise was her bare feet rustling around on the rug. She looked at the seat Thorin had gestured to, and giving him a pointed look, plopped into the seat one cushion further away.

She didn't know why exactly she was there, and she still had a really bad feeling about it. This feeling only grew when she heard Balin retreat from the room with naught but a soft thud of the door shutting behind him.

"I apologise for dragging you here at this time of night." He said, his deep voice a little more gravely than usual.

"Technically, it is morning." Ora replied grumpily, but then she sighed. "Sorry, I just don't appreciate my sleep being interrupted," and then, noticing his expression turn sour she quickly added jokily; "Never mind though, aye? I believe beauty sleep is over rated; no matter how much I get I always wake up looking like a Goblin anyway." She offered him a grin.

The corners of Thorin's mouth twitched a little, but he said nothing. His brow was bent slightly into a frown, and his mouth was pressed into grim line, under his eyes large, tired looking bags sat, and in the fire light the lines of wisdom, hardship, and age seemed ever more prominent.

"You look exhausted." She said quietly.

Thorin's expression remained blank, "is that a criticism or an observation?"

Ora thought for a moment, "criticism." She decided. "Have you slept at all this night?"

"No."

"Where's your kitchen?"

Thorin have her a questioning look, before nodding to his left were an archway sat in the middle of the wall. Beyond it was dark, but presumably it held the kitchen.

Ora rose, "Come on then."

"What?"

"I'm going to make you some warm milk with honey and cinnamon, my Lord."

Thorin continued to stare at her, "I'm not a child."

"I never said you were. Come on." She was being rude, she knew that, but with her lack of sleep her patience was wearing thin. She turned on her heel and marched off towards where the kitchen was. She was actually a little amazed when she heard the sound of the king sighing loudly before getting up and following behind her without another word of argument.

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"So, are you going to tell me what the matter is?" Ora asked, her voice smooth and quiet. They were once again sat by the fire, but this time they both sat on the lounger, side by side and both nursing a warm drink.

She looked up at him, he still looked rigid and tense, and when she asked the question she saw his jaw flex and clench as he stared into the fire.

"Your feet are bare." He said after a long minute's silence, his gaze flickered to her bare feet propped up casually on one of the foot rests.

In response she wiggled her toes towards the warm flames, "I know, so the cold floor keeps reminding me." Her gaze never left the side of Thorin's face. Even from where she sat, a foot away from him, if not a little more, she could feel the heat radiating off of him, and that paired with the warmth of the flames and the sweet drink in her hand she was having a hard time not to fall asleep herself. How Thorin still sat there wide awake she did not know, but his stress seemed to reflect onto her. Whatever burdened him, burdened her also.

When Thorin made no more move to speak, Ora pressed further. "Balin said it was the Gold Sickness..."

"Did he, now?"

Ora nodded, taking another sip of her drink.

"Well," Thorin said slowly, "He is right. It gets harder every day."

"What gets harder?"

"Fighting it." Thorin's face remained blank, although, something that resembled anger flickered in his eyes. "It is tiring."

"But you _are_ fighting it, you _are_ beating it."

"Every day I grow weaker, it is exhausting. I am fighting a losing battle, Ora. It is infuriating."

"You are angry?"

He finally turned to her then, his crystal eyes dancing with red tendrils in the fire, "I have fought battles that you could never even begin to imagine, I have stared a Dragon right in the eye, I have been stalked across Middle-Earth by Wargs and their riders. Yet, the thing that will kill me is all in my head. Could you imagine how furious that makes me? After everything, my mind will be my downfall. Just like my grandfather."

Ora just stared, unable to find the words of comfort she so desperately needed to throw at him. Sensing this Thorin retreated a little, leaning his elbow against the arm of the lounger and cradling his head in his hand.

"You are not your grandfather," She said eventually, uneasy. She shifted herself and carefully laid her cup down on one of the side tables before turning herself to face him fully. That way he could not escape her, although he refused to look at her. Hesitantly, she reached one hand forward and gently laid it on the wrist that sat in his lap, his hand still holding the cup.

When his head snapped up, she instantly withdrew. "I-I'm sorry." She stuttered, turning forward again, "I'm not very good at comforting others."

Thorin didn't respond for a long time, and Ora was beginning to feel like she'd outstay her welcome, but then he spoke again.

"I'm sorry for letting you down earlier," he glanced at her, noting her confused look he continued, "When I was supposed to meet you at the forge."

"Oh." Was all she said. "It was nothing." The disappointment in her tone rang out that 'nothing' definitely didn't describe her feelings towards smithing.

"It's not nothing to you." He replied.

Ora paused, "Well... you could have sent someone to tell me not to bother waiting..."

"It completely slipped my mind, I wasn't in a good state this afternoon. How long did you wait?"

"Oh, maybe ten minutes." She lied.

"Are you hot?"

"What?"

"Your face is red."

She wasn't _hot_, she was _blushing_ with _embarrassment_, although, she'd never let him know that.

"Must be the light." She replied, shifting her weight slightly. Thorin simply nodded, and she stifled a yawn.

"You're tired." He commented boldly.

Ora glanced at him, "You're very observant tonight." She snickered and he just looked away, not looking nearly as amused as she was.

"You can go, if you want." He said to her, casting his eyes downwards towards his now empty cup.

Ora thought about this for a moment. Truth be told, she was exhausted, and would probably fall asleep any second. But when Thorin took in a deep breath, and his vast chest expanding greatly, she replied: "No, my Lord, I will stay with you, if that is what you wish."

Thorin looked up at her, and this time when his eyes caught the flames they danced merrily in his eyes rather than tauntingly. In response he offered her a stiff, but someone sincere nod.

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Ora felt stiff, although she was very warm, and resting on something very, very soft. She wiggled her face a little, snuggling deeper into the soft material beside her cheek. What was it?

Although her eyelids were still firmly shut, she could tell by the light that it was now morning. The thought of getting up for work floated through her mind, but then the whole _'just five more minutes_' seemed like a far better idea, so, she tightened her arms around whatever it was she was holding into and sighed contently.

"Good morning."

Never, in all her life, had she moved so fast, and she'd run from Wargs in The Wild. She sprang back so quickly she accidently flung herself over the far arm of the chair with a load yelp. Peeking up over the side she caught the crystal blue eyes of a very unimpressed looking king.

"Erm, good morning, to you too." She replied nervously, but unmoving from her position on the floor, only her eyes visible from over the top of the ox blood fabric lounger.

His unimpressed expression softened, and a little amusement suddenly danced in his eyes, "Did you sleep well?" Was he _mocking_ her?

"Erm," Well, it was apparent that she'd slept on the King Under The Mountain, and the soft material she felt under her cheek happened to be his fur collar. At least she had answered her question about what it must feel like to hug the king. "Y-Yes I did," She admitted, "Did you?"

His lips twitched a little, and she relaxed at the minute hint of a smile. "I was not tired, besides, you have quite a grip on you, lass, I thought you were going to squeeze me to death at one point."

The fire had died now, and the sun was more or less up, so there was no way she could hide her horrendous blush.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"You talk a lot too." He interrupted, looking far too pleased it the look of sheer horror that graced her features. "You said some quite interesting things."

Her hands clamped over her mouth, "No! Oh, no! What did I say?" _How embarrassing_.

The velvety sound of him chuckling rolled through the air like dark chocolate melting on your tongue.

"I shan't repeat it, lass," Something twinkled in his eye, "But you certainly have a way with words."

Ora sunk lower onto the floor, chorusing a string of 'no, no, no, no's.

Ora didn't stay much longer after that, far too embarrassed to even meet eye contact with the king, although, she was a little glad he seemed to be in a better mood than last night. In fact, when she bid her goodbyes he may have even offered her a more than passable _smile_.

Ora ran like the wind through Erebor, it was still quite early and those Dwarves who were awake took no notice of a Dwarrowdam running around in her nightie.

A mixture of thoughts rushed through her head, ranging from 'did he enjoy his drink?' to 'why did he share such personal feelings so openly with her?' After all, he had easily opened up to her and told her about his dealing with the Gold Sickness without much consideration, in fact, she had an inkling he shared information with her that he would only tell his closest associates. Although, he had pointedly avoided the Battle of the Five Armies that time she asked him to relay his adventures to her. Not much was known about the battle, other than of course that eventually they had won with the help of the Elves and the Men. But many were killed that day, and the king and his nephews were oh-so nearly amongst them.

Ora paused to catch her breath just as she walked up to her front door, letting her mind reel a bit in frustration. The king certainly was a complicated fellow.

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"Stay still!"

"You keep sticking needles in me!"

"Because you keep moving!"

"Ouch!"

It was a usual afternoon in Anar's shop. Ora was wobbling on that tiny stall, while Anar hovered around her, pinning and adjusting the coat when necessary. Although, due to Ora's mind being elsewhere she wasn't concentrating on what was going on and kept moving and fidgeting, earning her a sharp jab by a needle every so often.

Eventually, Anar sighed and took a step back, giving Ora a disproving look she said; "What is the matter? You're squirming like a restless child."

Ora wiggled again, "Nothing! I'm just… impatient."

"Well," Anar began, taking a step around Ora to fiddle with the collar at the back, "If you don't stop being so _impatient_ then you're just going to make all this take longer."

Ora sighed once more.

"Anar?" She asked after a few minutes silence. The brunette just grunted in response, her mouth undoubtedly filled with pins. "Do you believe those rumours going round?"

"About you and the king?" Anar asked, rather shamelessly. Ora nodded. "Of course not! For one, I'm not one who indulges in gossip – nasty business. Secondly, you must have mud for brains to _believe_ rumours. I know you Ora, you wouldn't be keeping the bed sheets warm."

Ora smiled a little, "Thanks, Anar."

Anar ignored her, and continued, "You're far too common for that! The king has the pick of the entire kingdom!"

Ora scowled, "Thanks, Anar." She repeated, although this time sarcastically with an eye roll. Admittedly, although _technically_ she spend the night before last in the kings chambers (but not in the way the rumours were portraying) she herself still couldn't get her head around the reason why she was there. She supposed that she and the king had built some sort of strange, unconventional friendship and therefor Thorin was simply confiding in her. That combined with the fact she had in fact told him that if he ever needed someone to talk to she would be there. But nevertheless, it still alarmed her a little that _she_ was the one he had called upon, out of everyone in the entire kingdom.

It was all so farfetched, and those rumours even more so! But, as Anar had just pointed out she was a commoner, she was one of the normal, middle class, hardworking folk. So, it was still beyond her why the king would even want to talk to her, let alone _confide_ in her.

With new determination in her heart, she decided that after being stabbed to death by Anar she would go pay the king a little visit. After all, she was always waiting for him, maybe this time she should go to him first.

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Ora was feeling rather chic in her new fancy coat, and really very warm and cosy. Anar had done a magnificent job (so she told her, over and over and over again) and she almost felt like she was now parading it around. She would turn corners with an unnecessary amount of swing, just to have the hem of the thick, grey coat flair, and she was hop down steps like a rabbit, just so the fur collar would jump up and brush her cheek.

She swanned around the entrance of the King's Hall to begin with, although, that was empty. This did not dampen her happy spirits, however, and instead she wandered towards the king's private study.

Once there, Ora knocked a peppy tune on the wooden door, before she begun to rock back and forth on her heels like an excited child.

"Come in, Ora." Came Thorin's deep voice.

Ora opened the door and poked her head around it, a light frown on her face. "How did you know it was me?"

Thorin looked up from his paperwork he was pouring over. He still looked positively exhausted, but his expression relaxed a little upon seeing her. "I don't know anyone else who would knock on my door like that." He replied, watching her as she sashayed into the room.

Ignoring him she shut the door behind her and then twirled, "Do you like my coat?" She asked, still grinning from ear to ear, completely over the moon with her new purchase. "Now I have my own furs to fall asleep on."

"Make sure you look after it." Was all he said in response while turning his attention back to his work, but coming from him that was a sign of approval.

"I actually came here to ask you something." Ora said, still hovering near the door way and suddenly feeling a little nervous.

Thorin glanced up at her, "I wouldn't have expected any less from you."

"Why… Why did you call upon me the other night? Out of all the Dwarves in Erebor surely there are those more suited to… comfort you?" The words fell out her mouth before she had a chance to think about what she was going to do and change her mind.

Slowly, Thorin watched her, putting down his quill and leaning back in his chair, a look of deep thought on his face.

Eventually he replied. "You believe you're not the best suited to comfort me?"

Ora huffed, "I'm a baker. Not a…" She trailed off, not being able to think of the correct word.

Thorin sighed deeply and stood up, filling the small study with his wide shoulders and broad chest.

"You have a very low opinion of yourself, Ora." He began, stepping around his desk and towards her.

Ora frowned, "No, I just know my place."

"I'm not talking about hierarchy, lass." When Ora's frown stayed put, he continued, "From the moment I first laid eyes on you, you showed me strength. You had jumped in to save that poor lad from drowning in icy water, despite that being an extremely _foolish_ thing to do, you showed yourself to be completely selfless. The next time was when your friend knocked that paint over the balcony and yet you were the one to try and stop it.

"When that Dwarrowdam insulted your brother at Bulûr Maldarêm you stood your ground despite the consequences. You have a lot of pride, but also a lot of loyalty and faith." The kings gaze bore into Ora like hypnotic gems, and she found herself just standing there like a wet fish, not entirely sure what to do with herself.

"I have heard of your ventures beyond the safety of Erebor; I have heard of what you have done for your kin and the circumstances you have dealt with. You are admirable, brave, and strong. You may be a baker now Ora, but that is not who you solely are. You are much, much more that with qualities worth more to me than all the gold within this mountain."

It took a long, long time for his words to process. And for an even longer time Ora just stood there making strange sounds of the beginnings of words and sentences as she fought hard to make sense of what she just heard and how to respond. All the while, Thorin watched her with a blank expression on his face.

"No one's ever said anything like that to me before." She finally said, her voice barely a whisper and shaking with emotion. Never had she received just compliments, and never would she have dreamed of them coming from the king himself. Then, his last words hit her like a troll sitting on her. "Worth more than all the gold in Erebor?" She repeated, eyes large, "to you?"

In response, Thorin simply nodded stiffly.

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_OKAAAAAAAAAAY_

_I'm sorry that it took me so long to update, I've been totally bogged down with work!_

_Anyway, Thorin was a little more normal in the chapter, until the end anyway, but I think Thorin will always be OOC when it comes to courting, because obviously he's not portrayed like that in the books (or movie.) NEVER MIND I HOPE YOU LIKED IT ANYWAY?!_

_Thank you to all those lovely people who have reviewed. Please keep your comments coming, they mean sooooo much to me and give me incentive to write!_

_THnak you!_

_Much love xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_


	17. Chapter 16

I..." Ora struggled on her words, somehow unable to say anything in response. How could she? Was the king making a fool of her?

No. When she looked up at him, it was to meet his serious expression and intense gaze, those crystal eyes so penetrating that before them she felt totally vulnerable.

Ora's heart rate accelerated, and her breathing deepened. "I don't know what to say." She finally said, her voice stolen by utter shock.

Thorin took a step towards her, his raven hair shining in the fire light, and eyes dancing in the flames. He raised his hand, carefully lifting a stray hair from her face and tucking it behind her shoulder. "Say you accept me." His deep voice was even deeper than usual, rumbling and gravely like fallen rocks.

Again, Ora choked, finding herself retreating into the fur collar of her coat a bit. "Accept you?"

Thorin's hand, which was lingering just below her ear finally dropped, and Ora watched him as he retreated back to his desk to retrieve something out of one of the draws.

"What's that?" She asked, curiosity getting the better of her as she stood on the tips of her toes to get a better look at the flat, velvet box Thorin shielded from her.

"Sit." He commanded, but Ora was too interested to nag him on his tone, so she obeyed. Although she was interested, she was also terrified. What was that cold chill creeping up her spine? Was it dread? Did she know what lay in that box? Or was she scared to find out?

Once seated in one of the armchairs Thorin held the box out before her. It was about the size of her hand, and maybe just shy of an inch thick. Slowly, she took it, savouring the soft material under her fingers. She ran her thumb over the smooth top.

"Open it." Thorin said, moving away from her and to her surprise back towards his desk. He took a seat and once again submerged himself in the papers before him. Ora blinked at him for a moment, unsure on his actions. He didn't seem concerned, or even interested, in what her reaction would be. Was he sure of himself? Or did he already know what she was going to say?

In the past twenty minutes their conversations had turned from one extreme to the next, so honestly, when Ora pulled on the box lid she had no idea what would lay inside.

She tentatively opened the lid, and then promptly dropped the box. The heavy, delicate white gold necklace that lay within on a plush red pillow slinked into her lap. She stared at it like it was a dead puppy.

"I knew you'd drop it." She heard the king growl from his desk. "It won't bite."

Ora stared at the string of divine lights in her lap. The necklace wasn't particularly long, and nothing over the top, albeit ridiculously decorated in white diamonds along the fine chain. But it was the sun coloured gem that sat magnificently at the bottom on the chain in the shape of an oval that really caught her eye.

"I thought it would go well with the dress." Thorin said, obviously noticing her finally hold the necklace so delicately, as if it may shatter in her hands, and peer almost nervously at the gem.

Ora's head snapped in his direction, green eyes catching the red fire and yellow gem, glowing round and fierce at him like a frightened cat.

"How do you know about the dress?" She asked, remembering how he had mentioned it before.

"Because I was the one who sent it to you." His reply was so plain and matter-of-fact Ora very nearly just nodded as if it was nothing, but she quickly processed his words, and somehow her eyes grew even larger.

"Why? How did you know I liked the dress? I was all the way in Dale, and... Are you mocking me?" Her train of thought crashed when she noticed the king _smirking_ at her.

"I'm not mocking you, Ora." Thorin looked away, the smirk gone, "I just find you naivety amusing."

Ora's ears burned, "I'm not naïve. I simply cannot fathom your intentions."

Thorin raised his brow at her, "You cannot?"

Ora felt something that felt a lot like joy blossom in her chest, but nerves rippled through her stomach. "No." She replied, a little disgruntled.

"I sent one of my guards to keep an eye on you in Dale." He said simply, returning his attention to his work. "For your safety, and also to report back to me on information about you. He told me about the dress, and I sent for it straight away."

Ora stared at him, "But why?"

Thorin looked back up at her, a slight frown on his face, "You like the dress, do you not?"

"Of course, I love the dress, it's beautiful."

"Well, that's why then." He turned away again, "You deserve the best."

There was a long few minutes silence between them, and Ora turned her attention back to the necklace.

"I guess it will match." She said finally, grazing her thumb over the gem.

"So, you accept?"

Ora frowned at the jewellery, "What am I accepting?"

"The necklace and my request to court you."

Ora very nearly threw the necklace into the air when she jumped, spinning to face the king and readying herself to accuse him of mocking her all over again, however, upon seeing the stern, unimpressed look on his face and immediately stopped.

"Court me?" Why in Durin's name would he want to do that?

"That's what I said."

"B-But, my Lord, you have pick of the entire kingdom - all those noble ladies and such. Your nephews..."

"Aye, I know. But none of them caught my attention like you did." He was talking as if it was as plain as the light of day. "If I was to take a queen," he continued, "It would be someone like you. I want the chance to get to know you better."

"I thought you never intended to take a queen."

"I didn't."

A _queen_. He couldn't be serious? Although, the look on his face said that he was, but she could never be queen. To her surprise, she found herself wanting to say yes. The longer her eyes lingered on him, trailed over his large hands, powerful arms, broad shoulders, vast chest and mane of black hair, the more she wanted to accept _him_. He was an incredible Dwarf, noble, courageous, strong, powerful, kind (albeit in a sometimes a peculiar way), and most of all he'd known a life similar to hers. She found herself surprisingly comfortable with him, he interested her, but...

She let out a shaky breath.

"As much as I want to accept you, my king..." Slowly, Ora rose from her chair, making sure her eyes never left the necklace in her hands, and adamantly avoiding Thorin's gaze, "I cannot accept the responsibilities that come also." She went to hand to the necklace back to him, but he stopped her, raising his palm to her.

"Keep it." He rumbled, "Please."

Ora hesitated, feeling sick and utterly broken.

"I knew there was a very slim chance you'd accept." He continued, attention still on his work, "I tried to get your favour before I suggested anything, hoping that way you wouldn't want to say no."

"I don't want to." She found herself saying, unable to hold her tongue.

The king simply nodded, still avoiding her gaze.

Silence filled the room once more, and Ora shifted on her feet. "I suppose I ought to go..." She turned towards the door, but spared one more glance over her shoulder in an attempt to catch a glimpse of some emotion. But she got none from the king. She sighed, and headed towards the door.

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_*3 weeks later*_

Ora had reframed from eating in the Dining Hall since her incident with the king, and of course she had not told a single soul about what had happened. Besides, even if she did, the likelihood of anyone believing her was next to none. She still couldn't believe it herself. Nevertheless, since then, she had not seen hide nor hair of the king. And she was utterly thankful.

She, of course, declined Colborn's courtship. She knew it had been the right thing to do, and although when she watched the expression of total devastation on his face she felt sorrow, it was not in the same sense she had felt when turning down the king. She felt pity for Colborn, not her own heartache.

She hadn't even had any contact with her friends, although she'd seen Uli hovering around Anar's shop, she'd done her best to hide from her. Funny, she was getting rather good at hiding nowadays.

It wasn't until lunch on the Wednesday of the third week since her last encounter with the king that she actually spoke to Uli, and even then, it was totally an accident.

Ora was sitting in Anar's shop, happily munching on a pork pasty from the stall next door, when Uli came in, looking a little exhausted and a total shamble, as if she hadn't slept in weeks.

"What happened to you?" Anar said, catching Ora's attention as she sat near the back of the shop. Uli and Ora made awkward eye contact, but the blonde quickly looked away, suddenly extremely interested in the battered stone flooring.

"I-I haven't slept much recently," Uli admitted quietly, "I've had a lot on my plate."

If Ora didn't know she was pregnant she probably would have laughed, after all, she had her own problems as well now. The past three weeks had consisted of moping around and sleeping for Ora, she didn't really have much energy (or motivation) to do very much. To her annoyance her mind would constantly trail back to the king, no matter what she was doing, her mind would always somehow manage to squeeze Thorin in there too. She could be rolling out some pastry, and her mind would wonder if Thorin had every tried baking, or, what he was doing right now while she was working. It annoyed her. He annoyed her.

She chewed slowly on her lunch, suddenly feeling full and a little sick.

"Ora?"

Her head snapped up to find a nervous looking Uli staring down at her, her usually friary hair looking dull and matte; her light brown eyes had lost their dazzling spark, and her usually rosy face was pale and ghostly.

"Are you ill?" Ora asked, not really considering her words. She didn't really have much of a problem with Uli, although, she didn't stand up to for her about those rumours either.

Uli blinked a few times, "I'm... I'm not well, no. Can we talk?" She nodded towards the door of the shop.

Ora hesitated for a moment, the thought of just stamping her foot and refusing like a little Dwarfling crossed her mind a few times, but in the end, she sighed and reluctantly agreed. She followed Uli silently out of the shop, shrugging at Anar when the Dwarrowdam gave her a confused look.

"Look, Ora..." Uli began, turning around once they were out of earshot from anyone who may eavesdrop, "I'm sorry for what happened, in fact, I'm not entirely sure what happened. I shouldn't have believed those rumours - oh, Mahal knows, I should never have even questioned your morals. None of us should have. You should see Ava, she's so upset."

Ora waited patiently for Uli to finish, and when she did, she peered at her for a long time, arms folded sternly over her chest.

"So, you believed them? What were they exactly anyway?"

Uli's rosy cheeks returned, but simply out of embarrassment, "They were all along the lines of you keeping the king's bed warm."

"And you believed them? That I would lend myself out like some... _common wench!_" Ora tried desperately to keep her ticking temper under wraps, but truthfully she was so hurt that her closest friends would doubt her in such a way. "And to the king, Uli? For one, I'm pretty sure the king would have more morals than that," She hoped, "Secondly, if the king was to lay with a woman, I'm sure it wouldn't be _me_." Her own words stung bitterly on her tongue like venom, trickling down her throat and curdling in her stomach. "And third," She showed her most broken expression for emphasis, "I've known you for years, you've known me for years, and yet you think I would do such a thing?"

Uli looked utterly rotten. "No, we didn't think, Ora. You were being secretive and to be honest we didn't know what to believe. The ladies kept asking us about you, as if we had the inside gossip about your games with the king. It was confusing, Ora. It really was."

Now it was Ora's turn to feel guilty. Although she hadn't laid with the king, she had been with him a lot of the time her friends hadn't known her whereabouts. But, at the same time, why should they? She was an adult after all.

"I don't see why my business is yours or anyone elses." She said flatly.

Uli shook her head, "It's not, Ora. But people kept talking, we were all torn. In the end it was easier just to not get involved and keep our heads down."

"And you didn't think to stick up for me?" Ora winced.

Uli's bottom lip began to tremble. Dwarves weren't known for crying, unless they were truly broken.

"We should have." She replied, voice shaky, "Oh, Ora, you cannot fathom how sorry we are."

Ora simply shook her head. "It's fine."

"Really?"

Ora shrugged indifferently, "I have a lot on my own plate at the moment also. I'm pretty busy at the moment, so I best be off."

And with that, Ora turned her back on her trembling friend, feeling totally broken and beaten as well. After all, she'd known her friends for a long, long time, especially Ava. Truth be told, she was totally lost without them.

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A week later, Anar had finally persuaded Ora to eat in the dining hall. Figuring that it had been nearly a month since Ora had seen the king, she thought everything would be relatively smooth. But, of course of Ora, it was far from it.

Minding her own business, she found minimal disturbance from those around her. According to Anar, the bulk or the rumours had died down, and folk were finally getting on with their own business and lives.

Ora completely missed the entering of Uli, Marg and Ava, as she purposefully had her back to the door, but there was one Dwarrowdam who refused to be blanked.

Ora heard Fraught before she saw her, the heavy breathing and usual thudding of her heavy feet as they hit the floor. She tried to ignore her.

"Well, well, look who's finally decided to show their face again." Fraught drooled, causing Ora (who still had her back to the Foul Dwarf) to roll her eyes dramatically.

"So it seems." She responded blandly.

"Not too busy to dine with us _commoners_ now, are you?"

Ora finally turned to Fraught, a confused frown on her face. "What are you on about?"

"Finally finished living the royal highlife?" The gross Dwarrowdam stooped down to Ora's level, giving her a whiff of stinky breath. "Or has the king finished with you?"

"Oi!" A third voice shouted before Ora had the chance to respond. Fraught turned, revealing Ava as she scrambled up from one of the other tables, nearly tripping over her bench as she went. Marg quickly followed, and Uli hesitantly rose. "Enough of your sharp tongue, Fraught, you might cut yourself with it one day." Ava exclaimed loudly enough to catch the attention of most of the hall. She puffed out her chest as Marg raised her nose in the air.

Fraught snorted like a pig. "Really?" She raised her brow between Ora and Ava. She looked like she was ready to make another snide remark, but Marg cut her off.

"I know most things don't look good on you, Fraught, but jealousy most definitely isn't one of them." She sneered, folding her arms over her chest.

Ora raised her brow at her friends, surprised.

Fraught let out another laugh. "Oh, aren't you lot just the cutest."

"Enough with the rumours now, Fraught," Ava continued, glaring, "They're obviously not true, so stop embarrassing yourself." She took a few strides towards Fraught to glare up at her. "Just leave her alone, you big bully."

Fraught pulled a mocking offended expression, raising her hand over her heart, "Ouch." She said sarcastically, trying to hold back a laugh, "That really hurt." Fraught then bent a little to sneer right in Ava's face, baring her teeth like some sort of feral dog. "What are you going to do about it, aye?" She lowered her voice, just so those in close proximity could hear. "You need to accept the fact that your little friend is no more than a common whor—"

Ora jumped and very nearly yelped in surprise when Ava cut Fraught up by raising her fist and aiming straight to Fraught's jaw. There was a loud crack, and Fraught stumbled back shouting and clutching her face and pining.

Ora couldn't help herself, and she struggled to keep a straight face.

"Why you little—" Fraught started towards Ava, releasing her bleeding chin and preparing to charge. But a deep, rumbling voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

"Stop right there!" Thorin's authorising tone was menacing as he and his entourage marched into the dining hall. His crystal eyes shooting daggers in the Foul Dwarrowdams direction. His gaze flickered behind her, catching Ora's face drop from a snicker to sheer horror. Ora could have sworn his eyes softened for a moment, but his hard glare soon returned when his attention shifted back to Fraught.

"She punched me! Ava! Daughter of Tiva, and—"

"Enough!" He growled, coming up to stand before her. Fraught was tall, but king Thorin was taller. "I've had just enough of your troublesome ways. You seem to have quite a talent for causing others grief, whether it be by violence or _words_." Upon saying 'words', his gaze once again flashed to Ora, who shifted uneasily in her seat. "Go to the Forges at once," He instructed Fraught, "Dwalin has some work for you."

For a moment it looked like Fraught was going to protest, but she obviously quickly remember who exactly she was talking to and quickly shut her mouth again. She slithered past the king without even so much as a backwards glance.

Thorin turned to the rest of the hall, which was obviously now dead silent, everyone's attention was on the king.

He glowered at everyone, as if to tell them to stop their gawking and continue their business, which of course they promptly did. Thorin then brushed past Ava, and avoided Ora's wide eyed gaze like the plague. He didn't even spare her a second glance as he passed her. Something in her chest dropped like a stone, and she followed him walk with sad eyes as he moved towards the head table.

"Erm, Ora?" Ava's suddenly timid voice brought her back to Erebor, and Ora turned with raised brows to find Marg and Uli standing before her also.

Ora rose and wordlessly flung herself at Ava, engulfing her in a tight embrace.

"I'm so, so, so sorry, Ora! We were wrong to doubt you! I-"

"Shut up, you Troll!" Ora laughed into Ava's hair, grin broadening when she felt two more pairs of arms wrap around her also when Uli and Marg joined the bone crushing reunion.

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"Is it normal to be showing already?" Uli asked, frowning at her reflection in the mirror.

Ora glanced up to peer at the Dwarrowdam as she pulled tight her under dress to expose a small, but definitely there, bump.

"Have you told the father yet?" She asked, avoiding the question.

Uli sighed, "No. I haven't the heart. I haven't even seen him… He's been sending letters, but I don't know what to say."

"Maybe you should tell him in a letter?" Ora suggested.

Uli span to face her, "All that dough has gone to your head, Ora. I couldn't do that!"

Ora frowned, "Why not? Then you wouldn't have to deal with his reaction."

Uli's expression softened, "But this is his child, Ora."

Ora didn't want to mention bitterly how her friend had judged her on rumours of laying with the king out of wedlock, when she had actually been doing it herself.

Ora pursed her lips instead, unsure of what to say.

Uli didn't look like she expected a reply, however, for she just sighed and went about putting on one of the new dresses Anar had made for her. It was actually a very pretty dress, Ora thought. She liked the way in tightened just under the bust and then loosened to hang straight at the waist.

"I think I'll ask Anar to make me a dress like that." Ora thought allowed.

Uli raised her brow, smirking cheekily at her. "Are you pregnant too?"

"Totally." Ora jested with a snicker.

"With a prince?" Uli laughed when Ora grabbed a pillow from Uli's bed and threw it at her.

"Imagine if you were though." Uli continued.

Ora raised her brow, "I think it would be a miracle."

Uli shot her a disbelieving look, before coming to perch on the end of her bed. "Oh, spare me, Ora, I saw you enter the forge with the king the other month."

Ora's brows shot up, "Why were you in the forge?"

"I was looking for pa," She replied with a shrug, "What was your business with the king?"

Ora shrugged lazily, "Actually, I was there with Dwalin." She tried to make it sound as casually as possible, but noticing Uli's shocked expression she quickly added, "I don't know why the king was there. I think they just came down together. He had his own business in the forge. Dwalin had offered to teach me smithing."

"Why?"

"Because I asked my father, and my father mentioned it to Dwalin, and Dwalin offered to teach me." Lying to her friends was no easier now than it ever had been, but she'd convinced herself she was not doing it to save her own behind, but also the kings. Of course, she was sure the king wanted no more business with her.

"Oh." Was all Uli said as she rose from the bed and turned her back on Ora just in time to miss the glum expression that crossed her features. "I best be off anyway, Marg will kill me if I'm late for work again."

Ora nodded too, pushing herself from the bed. "Same, G'ma will be worrying where I am by now." Again, another lie. Truth was that actually she'd managed to get the afternoon off, but she wasn't free from working. "I'll see you at dinner."

The two friends parted, with Uli heading up the mountain and Ora heading down towards the King's Hall. She peaked inside as she passed it, glad to catch a glimpse of Thorin busy talking to one of his associates with his back to her. She continued on, and silently slinked into his private study, being sure to check that no one watched her as she did so.

It had been another week since their encounter in the Dining Hall, and Ora had seen the king a few times since then, but every time she did Thorin would ignore her. She was sure he must have seen her, and she found herself more and more hurt every time he gave her the cold shoulder. So, as she stood their lamely in his messy study, she couldn't help but groan at herself at what she was about to do. Honestly, she didn't know why she rolled up her sleeves and marched with determination towards his desk; maybe it was because she actually wasn't ready to let him out of her life yet. Did she have more feelings for him that she originally thought? No. Of course not, she was simply tidying his study to be nice, as a thank you for everything he'd done for her.

She paused to lightly brush her fingers over where the yellow gem sat around her neck, safely tucked out of sight under the collar of her dress. She sighed. Knowing deep down that she was actually there cleaning up his mess so that maybe, just maybe, he might think of her once more.

Bearing in mind she could not stop thinking of him.

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_HEELLLOOOOO GUYYSSSSS_

_I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update! I've literally been drowning at work recently, doing so much over time, and on Thursday I weNT TO SEE THE CRUCIBLE WITH RICHARD ARMITAGE IN IT OMG IT WAS AMAZING AND HE WAS LIKE A METRE AWAY FROM ME_

_It was totally amazing, and I wolf whistled at the end eh eh ehe hhh…_

_ANYWAY_

_Thank you so much to all those who have favourited and followed,_

_And thank you sooooooooooooooo much to all those who have left reviews, you're comments literally mean everything to me, and they make my updates faster!_

_So, please let me know what you think of this chapter! Please please! I'm actually relatively happy with it for once! Yay! So let me know what you think please_

_Love ya! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_


	18. Chapter 17

Ora was fidgeting nervously where she stood.

"Do we have to be here?" She muttered to Ava, not letting her eyes leave the archway that led to the King's Hall. It was the day after she'd cleaned the king's study, and now she was definitely regretting her decision to do so. What had she been thinking?

And now, she was scared the king himself would come waltzing out of the hall at any moment and see her pinned up against the stone wall.

Ava shot her a frown of confusion. "What's got your skirts in a fuss?"

Ora bit her cheek, "Nothing. Just... Do we _have_ to stand _here_?"

Marg and Ava exchanged a look, but said no more and moved along a bit, just far enough for Ora to dip into a nearby corridor, and out of sight. Her heart was racing in her chest, just the thought of being so close to the king made her stomach swirl and her head spin. What was wrong with her?

"Are you sure you're all right, Ora?" Marg asked, peering at her, "You look awfully peaky." She reached towards the blonde's face, ready to rest the back of her hand on Ora's heated face. But Ora ducked away.

"_I'm fine_."

Marg and Ava did not look convinced.

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Ora was ambushed later that very day. Only by her friends, of course, but she was ambushed none the less.

She was rolling out some pastry one minute, and then the next someone had snuck up behind her and clamped their hand over her mouth to silence any noise of surprise that may escape her.

"Stop it!" She shouted against the hand as she was pushed backwards into a chair, finally being able to glare up at her three friends who stood before her, all with their hands on their hips and all looking equally unimpressed. Even Ava's expression was stern, which was highly uncharacteristic.

"This is all a little over dramatic, don't you think? Even for you lot." She made a move to stand, but with strength she had no idea Marg possessed she was pushed back down into the little kitchen chair.

"Spit it out." Marg commanded lowly, folding her arms over her chest and looking down at Ora as if she was some sort of misbehaving child.

Ora raised her brow, "Spit what out? Seriously, I ought to get back to work." She tried to stand once more, but Ava blocked her.

"Enough of the secrets now, Ora, what's going on? I've known you more than a hundred years, don't you think that if something was wrong I'd notice?"

Ora frowned, "No, because clearly you are very much mistaken."

Ava rolled her eyes, "We have a theory."

"This will be interesting." Ora commented, unimpressed and taking her seat again with her own will, sitting back as if she was about to watch some sort of production. "Please," She gestured for them to continue, "Humour me. Enlighten me with your knowledge."

"Colborn."

Ora snorted in response before she could stop herself.

"Okay, maybe our theory is wrong then." Ava rubbed the back of her neck.

"Those rumours." Tried Marg, and Ora showed nothing in response. "That's a yes!"

"No, that's a no." Ava said, peering at Ora's indifferent expression. "Hot or cold?"

"I'm not playing games, Ava."

"Is it about Dwalin?"

Ora pulled a face, "Why in the name of Durin would it be about Dwalin?"

Ava tapped her chin, a thoughtful expression gracing her face.

"Durin?" Suggested Uli, revelling when Ora flinched at the name.

"So, this is something to do with Durin..." Ava mused aloud, beginning to circle Ora like some sort of predator. "The princes?"

Ora just rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest.

"It's not about the princes, you Trolls, enough now-"

"The king?" Uli continued, cutting Ora dead in the middle of her sentence.

Instantly, Ora began to sprout nonsense, "The king? W-What? Har, har! How hilarious, as if! Come now, let's be serious. W-Why-"

"So, it's something to do with the king." Ava said over Ora, glancing at her two friends either side of her.

"Do you have a fancy for the king, Ora." Marg commented, almost teasingly.

Ora's face heated up so hot she thought she might pop like a kettle about to boil. "_No_."

"That's definitely a yes."

"Spill the beans then, Ora. What's happened?"

Uli gasped, "_Did_ you lay with the king?"

"No!" Ora popped, "He asked permission to court me!"

There. She'd finally cracked. Instantly she slapped her hands over her mouth in horror, as all three of her friends fell silent and gaped at her.

After a few of the longest minutes in Ora's life, it was Marg who managed to speak first.

"Are you telling the truth?" She whispered, voice a little hoarse and riddled with awe and disbelief.

"Do you think I would lie about something like that?" Ora nearly snapped, cradling her head in her hands. "You cannot speak a word."

"Did... Did you decline?" Ava asked.

"Of course I declined."

"You declined the king?" It sounded like Ava very nearly laughed, but the look on her face said otherwise. "Oh, Ora... Only _you_."

Ora groaned loudly, "I know."

"Why did you decline?" Uli asked, but before Ora could response Marg cut her off.

"Wait a moment, when was this? And since when did the king _know_ you? Let alone enough to _court_ you?"

Ora shrunk into her coat, "When we weren't talking. I don't know him that well, erm, he is the king, after all."

Ava suddenly started laughing, "No wonder he didn't scowled you about the paint!"

Ora's face heated up all over again, "Ava, that has nothing to do with-"

"_Of course it does_!" Ava grinned widely, "All those random encounters - the _dress_!"

Uli and Marg both gasped, "It was _him_?" Uli stared at Ora with wide eyes.

Ora mumbled her answer, which only sent her friends spiralling off into different corners of the kitchen, each of them chanting their opinion in hushed voices.

"Oh, Ora!" Uli cooed, swanning up to her and grabbing the blonde by her shoulders and shaking her slightly, "I cannot believe you said no to the king!"

"How can I say yes?" Ora nearly barked, feeling defensive about the whole thing. "This is a serious courtship, I cannot be queen at the end of it."

All three of her friends paused, falling silent in unison.

Ava frowned, "Why not?"

Ora stared at her like she'd grown a second head, "_Why not_?" She laughed awkwardly, "Have you been eating stone, Ava? _Queen_? _Me_?"

Ava looked confused, "Why not?" She repeated.

Ora began to laugh hysterically. She did this for nearly a minute, until she noticed the serious looks on her friend's faces. "Are you serious?"

"I think you'd make a good queen. I mean, you're caring, yet you're not precious. You know hardship, more so than most."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore." Ora quickly stood up, throwing Ava a sour look when she made a move to say more. "I said I don't want to talk about this anymore."

Ava shook her head, muttering something about seeing her at supper, before retreating out of the kitchen, Uli right behind her.

However, Marg lingered long enough to ask; "Do you love him, Ora?"

Ora had picked up where she'd left off with her tending to her pastry already, and paused mid knead.

"Love's a strong word." She replied hesitantly, feeling an odd, jittery sensation in her stomach. "I do not know him well enough to love him."

"You know that's not always how love works." Marg said quietly, watching Ora's back carefully from her position by the door. "I know there is nothing more daunting than a huge responsibly, Ora. But I would think twice about compromising your happiness just because you're frightened."

"I'm not frightened."

"Then what is it that's stopping you?"

Ora had no response for that, and she heard Marg take her leave soon after.

Ora wiped her face with her arm, willing the tears that brimmed in her eyes away.

She had already admitted to herself that her feelings may actually run deeper than she'd originally anticipated. But love? She knew the king in ways most could not even fathom. He'd told her personal thoughts and emotions, and she the same.

After all, she may accept his courtship and have nothing come of it. He may learn more about her and decide he was wrong about her.

Something in her chest deflated at that thought, and she quickly shook her head, knowing full well that the king would have not purposed such intentions without having fully thought about them. He was royalty, blue bloods couldn't just go around picking and tasting who they fancied.

Ora's gut churned. How in the name of Durin had she gotten herself into this mess?

She was scared. Only Mahal knows how much she found herself wanting to accept the king. She's assumed by now she would have moved on, but this month had only made her ache more, hurt more, and she found herself pining more and more everyday for his company.

She found herself missing the way he would sit staring off into the fire, listening to her ramble on about nonsense. She missed the way his deep voice rumbled around her like rocks falling; the way his crystal eyes fixed on her sent shivers down her spine, and she could forever be lost in those blue pools.

He would walk with such poise and majesty, and when he entered the room he filled it with his presence. Even the air around him would vibrate with energy, and those around him would stare with wide eyes and baited breath. He was brave, supreme, _incredible_.

"Oh, Mahal, _the king_!" She groaned, face planting into the pastry.

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The Kings Hall wasn't particularly busy, just filled with its usual occupants, but that was more than enough for Ora.

She ran her hands down the side of her skirts, trying to discretely wipe away the sweat that had gathered on her palms. She tried to hold her head up as she walked down the walkway, but that was rather difficult when she could feel several Dwarves staring at her as she made her way towards the throne.

Thinking about her decision, she probably should have changed before making her way to the king. She was still in her word dress, speckled with flour and icing. But she had been in too much of a hurry to stop for anything, even when her brother had called for her from the main floor, she hadn't stopped to speak to him.

It was Dwalin who saw Ora approaching first, and he promptly nudged the king to get his attention. Thorin turned from his conversation with Fili, moving his head to ask Dwalin what was the matter. Just as he did, he caught sight of Ora.

"Your majesty." She greeted nervously, offering Thorin a light curtsy when she was at the appropriate distance from him. She mentally slapped herself when she spied Fraught standing just off towards one side of the Hall, watching her with the usual gaggle of Dwarrowdams. "Mahal, spare me." She muttered to herself.

"What are you doing here?" He asked briskly, taking an intimidating step towards her.

Ora rang her hands in her skirts, "May I speak with you?" She hesitated, "In private?"

For a moment, Ora thought Thorin was going to downright refuse her right there on the spot, judging by the long pause and the totally unimpressed look on his face.

"Dinner, tomorrow night."

Ora let out the breath she seemed to be holding, a few stray hairs that lay over her face blew a little.

"Yes, thank you." She offered him a smile which he didn't return. Instead, he gave her a cold nod, before turning away from her again.

Taking this as her signal to leave, Ora did another small curtsy before briskly leaving. She completely missed the way Dwalin smiled after her, chuckling to himself a little.

Fraught watched Ora leaving, nearly tripping over her skirts as she did so because of how much of a rush she was in.

"What was _that_ all about?" One of the other Dwarrowdam's asked to no one in particular, "Who was _she_?" She said 'she' as if Ora was a disgusting little slug, sliming all over her property.

"That's Ora, daughter of Pul." Growled Fraught, narrowing her eyes as Ora disappeared from sight.

"That wench?" Asked another one of the females, nearly cackling as she did so. "That's her? Honestly, I would have thought that if the king was going to choose a bed maid he would at least have taste. Needless to say, I'm a little disappointed in him."

As the gossiping continued, Fraught ground her teeth together.

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Patience was usually something that came naturally to Ora, and she'd spend many years of her life testing it. From learning to bake, to teaching Ava how to appropriately yield a sword, but today all those long years of practice seemed to be in vain, for her patience that day was very thin. Dangerously thin.

The day she was due to dine with the king, everything seemed to go wrong for her.

"Stop rushing!" Po had yelled upon smelling _another_ batch of burnt buns, "What are you fussing about?"

Ora just grunted in response, and continued about her work. Typical, the one time she wanted to finish work as soon as she could was of course the day that passed the slowest and demanded her precious time the most.

She was so wound up by the time she finished work she very nearly ran Uli over on her exit.

"What's the matter with you?" Uli asked, frowning and brushing herself of the flour Ora had stuck on her when they collided.

Ora grabbed Uli's wrist and pulled her along with her as she ascended the market steps, "I'm dining with the king tonight."

"What? And you didn't tell me?"

"There was nothing to tell," Ora grumbled, pretty much flying up step after step, "I don't think he was too overly enthusiastic with the idea."

From behind her Uli snorted, "Can you blame him? Poor old fool, you rejected him."

"I don't think that makes _him_ the fool." Ora muttered, having no intention for Uli to hear that remark, but she did.

"Is that a hint that you've changed your mind?"

Ora scowled, "I don't know." She ignored Uli's questions from then on, as they hit the main levels the corridors and Halls boomed with Dwarven life, and certainly, this was no place to talk about personal affairs, so Ora waited until the pair were safely in the confinements of her bedroom before taking on the subject once more.

"Spill." Uli plopped herself down on Ora's bed with an expression that said that she wasn't leaving until she had the answers she was looking for.

Ora sighed and rubbed her temples, she began to pace.

"Okay..." She began, fighting to find words while her face flushed red, "I don't know if I'm going to accept him yet, honestly, but..." She trailed off, coming to a halt in front of her red headed friend, "But, I don't think I can't _not_ accept him."

Uli's face twisted a little, her lips pursed and her brows hung into a frown. "What?"

Ora groaned, falling heavily down on the bed next to Uli, "I don't know anymore." She pushed the balls of her hands into her eyes. "Why can't this be simple? Why can't he be a normal blacksmith, or a soldier? Why does he have to be the _king_?"

From her side, she heard Uli giggle, "Because that would be just too simple, Ora. You sound fond of him."

Ora hesitated for a moment, "I am."

"Then what is stopping you? Truly."

Ora sighed heavily, "The prospect that someday I may become queen."

"Well, if you accept his courtship; that is pretty inevitable."

Ora's heart rate accelerated, "This is a big decision. I don't think I'm ready for that sort of commitment yet." Courting royalty was nothing like she'd ever known, when courting a middle classed Dwarf, if you find yourself unsuited to one another then you can just part ways. But, when courting royalty, it was far more complicated than that.

"It's a big responsibility. Maybe you should tell him that."

Ora's ears pricked, "What?"

Uli pursed her lips for a moment, "You're no Noble, Ora. You do not understand their lives. You need to tell him that, maybe tell him you want to get to know him more, before deciding."

Ora looked up at her friend, "Can I do that?"

Uli shrugged, "There's no harm in asking."

Of course, there was harm in asking, and Ora knew that full well as later that evening she made the journey from her chambers to the king's private dining hall. Her head was filling with possible scenarios that may unfold if she asked this favour of him.

She kept telling herself there was nothing wrong with wanting to be sure of her feelings before making this sort of dive. After all, she didn't want to accept his courtship and then end up hurting him, or getting hurt herself.

She took a deep breath before knocking a little tune on the large, oak door of the kings dining hall, and she waited with baited breath for it to open. In fact, she waited so long she was nearly blue by the time the door swung open, with a rather disgruntled looking Thorin standing on the other side.

He barely acknowledged her before turning away from her again, and she let out her breath in one puff. Unfortunately, her minimal confidence seemed to escape with it.

"Good evening…" She tried to sound cheery as she stepped into the room, silently closing the door behind her. "Erm, thank you for giving me the time to speak to you."

Thorin barely spared her a glance as he took a seat on the familiar armchair by the fire.

"Sit."

Ora didn't argue with him, and silently shuffled over to the chair next to him. Feeing his eyes on her the whole time, although, it was not the soft, comforting gaze she was used to.

"What is it you wanted to talk to me about?" He asked abruptly, obviously not wanting to be bored by the formalities. "I trust it is important and that I am not wasting my time."

Ora frowned, and ducked her head. "That depends on if you're interested in hearing what I have to say or not."

"Well?"

Ora bit her tongue for a moment to stop herself from snapping. She straightened up and cleared her throat, turning to the king with fake confidence. Thorin peered indifferently at her, slumped in his chair and resting his head on his knuckle.

She took a breath to begin, but then stopped herself, finally letting herself run her eyes over the king. "You look tired." No, he looked exhausted.

Thorin's brow furrowed, but he didn't say anything.

Ora shifted from her chair, coming to standing over Thorin with a look of concern. She'd instantly forgotten about her previous plan, and instead was overcome with worry for her king. She crouched down slightly, ignoring the look Thorin was giving her and raising her hand to press the back of it against his forehead.

"You have not been sleeping." She observed.

"I've had a lot on my mind."

"Is it the gold sickness?" Ora asked boldly, without a second thought.

Thorin paused for a moment, "It's waning, I'm sure."

Ora frowned, unconvinced. "You need to relax more, you're always tense." Thorin snorted and Ora pursed her lips. Hesitantly, she took his hand in hers. She'd half expected him to pull away, but he didn't.

"Why are you here, Ora?" He asked after a long few minutes of each of them just staring at their slowly entwining fingers.

Ora's heart rated quickened again, but she didn't know if it was due to the fact she'd suddenly become acutely aware of what she was doing or because she'd suddenly remembered her purpose here.

She bit her cheek. "I've missed your company, your majesty." She said finally, avoiding eye contact and instead staring down at their hands. Her gut clenched when Thorin pulled his hand away from hers, but it soon returned to be placed under her chin and gently tilt her face up to look at him.

"Thank you for tidying my office." He said, and Ora couldn't help herself but turn bright red and snicker. She pulled away from him, shaking her head with embarrassment and hiding her head in her hands. She then heard the deep chuckled that so blatantly belonged to Thorin, and soon enough her giggling turned into laughter, partially because of how stupid her actions sounded, and partially because of how relieved she suddenly felt.

"Oh, Mahal," She gasped, "I know it was silly, but it was driving me insane."

Thorin's chuckled rolled around her waves crashing into the shore, "I honestly appreciate it."

Ora straightened up, still snickering slightly and shaking her head. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

The tension had been lifted, and the ice around them had been broken.

"For being so foolish, I…" Maybe she should have spent less time worrying about his reaction and more time thinking about _what_ exactly she was going to say, "I should have not been so quick to make a decision."

Thorin was silent for a long moment, the amusement on his face gone. "You have changed your mind?"

"If the offer still stands, I… I would like to renegotiate the terms."

Thorin raised his brow, and leant back in his seat once more, leaving Ora to stand before him awkwardly. "Renegotiate the terms? I did not know there were any terms to begin with?"

Okay, not exactly the start she had been hoping for, but then again, she wasn't sure how she'd imagined all this would go anyway. But as far as scenarios went, this was by far the most promising.

Ora fumbled to find words, "I'm not like you, Thorin… I don't know your world. I only know one sort of knife and fork, and my knowledge in all thing academic is very limited. Your proposition is so… daunting."

Thorin frowned, "You are afraid you'll disappoint?"

Ora huffed, "Yes. I don't want to be a joke."

"I do not think you would have won my heart if you were a joke, Ora."

"Well, I… Wait, what?" Ora looked like a startled deer as Thorin rose from his armchair, and took a step towards her.

Thorin didn't respond, instead, he raised his hand to brush a stray curl away from Ora's face. She found herself leaning into his touch, savouring the warm feel of his rough fingers as they grazed her earlobe and gently traced down the side of her neck.

And there she went, completely lost in Thorin's crystal blue eyes, and totally entranced by the feel of him so close to her. She hadn't even realised her gaze had dropped to his lips, not until he leant towards her.

Her heart pounded, and for once it felt good. The hand that lingers lightly on her neck raised again to cup her cheek, and Thorin used this to gently tilt her face towards him. His nose brushed against hers, and Ora found herself slowly melting into his embrace, fully noticing when his other arm snaked around her waist, but she was too lost in his eyes to give two hoots.

His warm breath tickled her slightly parted lips, "Miz kidhuz." She heard him murmur, and she was sure her heart was going to hammer its way out of her chest when his lips finally closed over hers.

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_**Miz kidhuz – My gold**_

_Ermmmmmmmmm_

_Not sure how I feel about this chapter haha_

_I got a little bored with Ora's stupidity, so I thought I'd give things a little push._

_I had trouble trying to get across Ora's true emotions about the whole ordeal, but I think in the next chapter I'll go into it in further depth. I mean, she was going to tell Thorin in this chapter but he so RUDELY INTERRUPTED HER._

_Dear oh dear thorin what are you like_

_Don't worry though guys, the drama is soooooooooo not over. I just wanted the interesting bits to FINALLY start, and now look yay progress_

_I mean, come on guys, can you BLAME Ora for being nerous about the idea of being queen? But lets face it, thorin wouldn't fancy her unless she was suitable. I would imagine he's a little picky._

_Anyway_

_Thank you to all those who have followed and favourited!_

_And thank you sosososoososoosooooo much to all those who have reviewed!_

_I love your comments so much! Please let me know what you think of this chapter!_

_MWAH! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_


	19. Chapter 18

The kiss was brief, with Thorin's warm lips barely lingering on Ora's for more than a moment before he drew away, leaving her lost for words, her head swimming pleasantly.

"Wow..." She nearly giggled, a goofy smile on her lips as she swooned and swayed a little on the spot. If it wasn't for Thorin's firm grip still around her she probably would have toppled right over.

"What were you saying?" He asked, a small smirk playing on his lips.

Ora stared at him for a moment, being in no rush to shake off the blithe effects of the kiss. "I have no idea."

"Does it matter?"

"No..." She trailed off. If she wasn't mistaken, she would swear she was drunk. She leant into his warmth some more, savouring the feel of his hard, strong body against hers. She rested her head on the soft furs of his coat, smiling to herself when she felt the gently scratches of his beard against her skin when he kisses her temple. Then she frowned, sobering up a little. "What does this mean?" She asked cautiously.

"It means..."

"Consort in training?" Ora offered, lifting her head a little.

Thorin chuckled, "I was going to say Formal Suitress."

"As long as I'm not a bed maiden I don't mind what you call me."

Thorin didn't get the chance to reply. One of the doors on the far side of the room opened, and through it a serving girl appeared, a few other servers followed in her wake, each carrying silver trays and platters.

Ora immediately withdraw from Thorin, flattening her skirts promptly. She glanced up at the king, "If I didn't know you better, I would think you're trying not to laugh at me. But, of course, the king would never be so rude." She tried to sound as serious as possible, but she was jesting. Thorin's eyes twinkled.

"Never." He then tilted his head towards the table, "Shall we?"

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"What happened?"

"Ora!"

"Tell us!"

Ora couldn't stop grinning, in fact, she had not stopped grinning since Thorin had kissed her last night. Honestly, Mahal knows she was grinning even in her sleep.

"Oh, ladies," Ora swooned a little in remembrance of the kiss that even now lingered devilishly on her lips. "I am not one to kiss and tell."

If she'd thought her friends had been beside themselves before, they'd reached a whole new level of excited now. In fact, Marg jumped up from the stool she was barely perched on the end of in anticipation, raised her arms above her head and screamed.

Ora laughed, trying to hush her friends, "For the love of Durin, would you not!" She hissed through giggles, glaring playfully at the three of them, "You must swear to never tell!"

"Never ever? Heaven's, Ora, I think people will notice someday." Ava winked, barely able to stop fidgeting with excitement.

"This causes for a celebration!" Announced Uli, standing up and clapping her hands almost with a sense of command.

"No it doesn't." Ora replied nervously.

"Yes it does! We will celebrate in the same fashion as if any of us was being courted."

"And how is that?"

"With wine, of course!"

"I'm supposed to be meeting the Thorin later, it's hardly proper if I turn up _drunk_."

"Ooooh," Ava cooed, "First name basis, this is serious."

Ora flushed bright scarlet.

"Oh! I wonder if he likes your calling him '_your majesty'_," Jested Uli, giggling.

Even Ora's toes turned pink, "Uli!" She couldn't surprise her own giggle long enough for that to sound scolding, however, her own giggles were more out of embarrassment than actual humour.

"Okay, fine, no wine! But certainly we must eat!" Marg exclaimed.

Instantly, Ava jumped up, "To the dining hall!"

Ora was positively glowing as the four of them descended the mountain halls to the dining hall. She was overcome with joy and excitement, never in all her years had she felt such a way, and it astonished her a little that one Dwarf could heightened her emotions so drastically. She found herself silently wishing that the feeling would never go away.

It was a little early for supper, but the hall was still moderately busy, filled with miners mainly, seeing as the shop owners probably hadn't finished their days work yet, but it was easier enough for the four of them to fill their plates and find a seat together. The conversation didn't revolve around Ora's affairs now, thankfully, as the busy dining hall was no place to discuss such matters. Ora found herself eternally thankful for her friend's loyalty, and compassion towards the privacy of the subject.

They were right in the middle of chatting about a Dwarrowdam named Dagny, who was apparently pregnant with her _fourth_ child when a small cough from behind Uli and Ava caught their attention.

"Can I sit with you?" Anar asked, looking nervously at them all with her large, brown eyes.

Both Uli and Ora grinned in unison, "Of course!"

Uli pushed Ava a long a bit to make room for the small Dwarf, who slotted into place neatly amongst them. At first, Anar seemed shy with all four of them talking around her, but before long she happily joined in with the laughing and banter of the group.

When the hall fell silent to signalise the arrival of royalty, Ora very near panicked, suddenly unsure of what to do or to act. She felt Marg pinch her to get her attention.

"_Relax_." She mouth, and immediately Ora did, or at least mimicked the impression of relaxation.

She watched with inquisitive eyes as Thorin and his company strode past and she was surprised when his eyes found hers almost immediately. Her stomach jumped about excitedly when he inclined his head towards her, his lips very faintly lifted at the corners.

She felt an excited kick from Ava under the table, the brunette Dwarf bobbing up and down enthusiastically and grinning like a mad woman. Poor Anar looked from between Ava and Uli – who looked close to popping – with a furrowed brow.

"What's going on?" She asked once the hall resumed its usual level of noise.

Ora ducked her head to avoid her blush.

"We're just very patriotic." Marg said matter-of-factly, causing all of them to hoot with laughter. Even Ora threw her head back, thankful for Marg's quick, dark wit.

"Yeah, we love the king." Ava giggled from around a leg of lamb.

Uli snorted, "Love me a bit of Thorry."

Ora nearly fell of her bench she laughed so hard, clutching her sides as her ribs began to ache.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of her neck prickled and she turned, wiping a tear that leaked from her eye and spotted Fraught standing before her with her thick, hairy arms crossed menacingly over her chest. Just behind her, stood the familiar batch of highly strung Dwarrowdams that Ora spotted in the King's Hall.

Ora raised her brows, surprised to find them wanting to talk to her here of all places, bearing in mind the king sat within range of any loud voices.

"Evening." Ora said coldly, her good mood wiped away like chalk on a slate.

Fraught continued to glare, "Why were you in the King's Hall the other day, Ora?" She said lowly, sparing a shifty glance towards the head table. Ora did too, and was a little disappointed to find that Thorin's attention was taken by Dwalin.

"Am I not allowed to be?" She countered, trying to appear unruffled.

"Not just _anyone_ waltzes in to talk to the king."

"I did." Ora said coolly, as if it was a plain as day. "I didn't get the letter telling me that I wasn't allowed to, obviously."

"Why were you there?"

From behind Fraught, Ora could practically see the other females ears strain to hear her answer.

"I was actually asking for permission." She replied with a shrug.

"Permission for what?"

"I don't think she has to explain herself to you, Fraught." Growled Ava from the other side of the table.

"Oh, I think she does. As a Nobel, I am asking this _mere_ _Baker_ a formal question."

"This '_mere Baker'_ does not have to answer to you, Nobel or not." Came a third voice out of nowhere, causing all of the females to jump. King Thorin stood just off to the side of them, strong arms folded across his vast chest and glowering down at Fraught with possessive ferocity. "Neither does she ever have to."

Fraught did not say a word, in fact, no one said a word, or even breathed for that matter. Even Ora sat dumb struck and struggling not to gape, firstly at his timely, sudden appearance, and secondly at his apparent protectiveness of her. Although a little annoyed because she was more than capable of standing up to Fraught by herself, she still felt a warmth spread through her chest.

"Do I make myself clear?" Growled Thorin, crystal eyes that washed so welcomingly over Ora now glared coldly into Fraught. It was almost terrifying. Fraught just nodded enthusiastically already retreating back towards the other side of the hall.

Thorin then turned to Ora and jerked his head as if for her to follow him, before stalking off; back straight, shoulders squared and hands knotted into fists at his side.

Ora exchanged worried looks with her friends before tripping over her own bench as she hurried to catch up with the king.

"Is everything all right?" She asked tentatively once they were safely out of the confinements of the hall. She thought briefly about putting her hand on his shoulder comfortingly, but then, after sparing a glance at the stormy expression on his face, she thought it best not too. He didn't look pleased at all.

He led her straight to his office.

"Your business with Fraught, what is it?" He fired the question at her before she barely had the chance to shut the door behind them.

Ora frowned at him, watching him as he paced angrily, "I don't know, she just doesn't like me."

"For no reason?" He scoffed, obviously not convinced.

"I think she's jealous of my communications with you, my Lord."

Thorin stopped, "Thorin." He said, suddenly sincere, "Please."

"Thorin." She repeated, taking a few steps towards him now he'd seemingly relaxed a little.

"Does she bother you often?" He asked.

Ora shrugged, "She's a pest, but practically harmless."

"Practically harmless?" He repeated.

Ora shrugged again, "She is annoying, and pops up inconveniently – she is also the one who started those ghastly rumours – but other than that she doesn't do any real damage."

"She started those rumours?" His anger crawled back into his words.

Ora finally put a comforting hand on his shoulder, amazed when the muscles beneath almost immediately relaxed at her touch.

"I can't blame her for being jealous." Ora smiled up at the king, almost turning red at her own words.

Thorin, who had been staring off intently into another corner of the room, instantly shifted his gaze down to her.

"Sorry." She blurted, feeling the heat finally rush to her face.

Gently, Thorin reached up and stroked her soft hair, his eyes melting her very core. She couldn't resist, and before she knew it she'd reached up and trailed a smooth finger from his temple and down to the bristles of his beard.

"Thank you for putting her in her place though." Ora said after a long few minutes' silence.

Thorin offered a small smile, one that made her head spin and heart swoon.

"You are most welcome, hopefully she will think twice about bothering you again."

Ora snickered, letting her hand drop to lightly rest on his chest. Her heart rate dramatically quickened when he made no move to shy away from her touch, in fact, he responded by moving closer yet to her, so close that their bodies brushed and Ora could feel the warmth radiate from him.

"How are you feeling, by the way?" She asked, absentmindedly toying her fingers into the long fur of his collar.

Thorin took his time to reply, letting his attention lingering on the hand that still caressed her golden locks.

"Much better, actually," He replied in his usual gravelly tone that did wonders to her pulse rate. "I slept like a babe last night."

Ora grinned up at him, "That's great!" Instincts took over, and she did what she'd do to anyone upon hearing good news, and that was she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Caught a little off guard, Thorin didn't respond for a moment, but just as Ora was about to pull away he too wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tighter against him at the waist. Ora had to stand on the tips of her toes to keep a good possession between them, but she didn't mind, she was far too busy indulging in the Dwarf that was Thorin Oakenshield. She took in all of him; the way his raven hair felt against her face; the musky, masculine smell that wrecked pleasant havoc on her nose; and the way his hard, solid armour sat awkwardly beneath her. She caught herself scandalously imagining him without it, and although her cheeks flushed pink, she didn't shun herself for such thoughts, in fact, she nearly found herself giggling at the idea.

When she finally pulled away from him, she barely opened her mouth to say something else before his mouth captured hers. Pleasantly surprised, Ora instantly submitted to the king, absently wondering if she was going to have a heart attack if he kept up.

At first, the kiss was innocent and chaste, his rough lips closed and gently against hers. But when she felt something hot and slick slide across her lower lip she instantly melted and relaxed, letting his hot tongue slid up against hers.

If it wasn't for Thorin's stature as sturdy as the mountain he was bred from, Ora was sure she'd topple right over, because Mahal knows how jellified her knees were right then.

Her fingers tangled absently into his hair, and she nearly moaned when she felt his grip on her tighten, his thick fingers gripping and the material at the small of her back.

When they broke a part, Ora was soaring in heights she never thought imaginable.

"Oh, wow…" She breathed, feeling stupefied for the second time in two days. She could definitely get used to this if this was what every kiss would be like. Her brain was mush, but her heart was beating wildly in her chest. Every inch of her skin was tingling, and she felt like all her senses were heightened.

Thorin's deep chuckled vibrated against her, and she swooned all over again when his lips brushed against the skin just above her brow.

For a long time they stayed like that, Ora pulled into Thorin with her head resting on his fur collar, and his chin gently perched on the top of her head.

"You know," She began quietly, a small thought picking at her, "I never thought you were like this."

Thorin paused the small circles he was drawing at the small of her back, and Ora suddenly realised she probably sounded incredibly rude, but, when Thorin replied, she was relieved to find his calm.

"What do you mean?"

Ora thought hard about her reply, "You're surprisingly affectionate."

She didn't want to say it out loud, but on the exterior he wasn't the most openly personable Dwarf, although clearly brave and selfless towards his own people, he certainly had a strange way about going about things. Before Ora knew him, she thought him as brooding, with a constant storm cloud over his head. But towards her, he was definitely different.

Thorin didn't reply, but he did continue the small caress on her back.

Thinking that she may have offended him, Ora tilted her head a little to kiss his beard covered cheek. Thorin turned his head and once more pressed his lips to hers. He kissed her as if she was made of glass that might break at any moment, and when he pulled away, he gently rested his forehead against hers.

Under his crystal gaze, Ora almost felt vulnerable, but being so tightly wrapped up in his arms, she also felt safe and invincible, and suddenly being vulnerable didn't really matter to her.

Then she frowned.

"Did you have any supper?" She asked suddenly.

Thorin raised his brow a little at her, "No, I didn't have time too, why?"

In response Ora left Thorin's hold, suddenly feeling a little lost and cold without his embrace, but she quickly replenished herself by taking his hand in her own and giving him a gentle tug towards the door.

"Come, the market will be mostly empty by now," She shot a quick look towards the clock to check her statement would be true, "and I'm trying out some meat pasty recipes, you can have one if you want?" She offered the king a hopeful look, in which he nodded in response.

The walk down to the market was a mostly silent one, as usual Thorin wasn't being a talker, but Ora was content in the silence, occasionally she'd ask him a question about something if the thought popped into her head, but mainly she was preoccupied with the feelings that were coursing through her body, right down to how her heart would jump every time their fingers brushed together as they walked side by side.

"Looks like your running low on flour again." Thorin observed once they had entered the shop kitchen, looking over to where a nearly empty sack of flour sat on the counter in the corner. As Ora had expected, the market was more or less deserted, and Poe was nowhere to be seen.

Ora sighed longingly at it, "Aye," She replied, uncovering a bowl of dough that she'd left, "I have an order to collect another bag at the end of the week."

"At night again." Thorin assumed.

Ora bit her lip, "Maybe."

"Then I will escort you." He wasn't asking her, he was telling her, but that didn't stop Ora from panicking a little.

"No, no, your majesty," Her cheeks automatically went pink when she immediately remembered what Uli had said earlier, "-I mean, Thorin – it's fine, I'm sure Gior—"

Thorin interrupted her, "As your suitor, and your king, I insist. This is not under negotiation."

Ora opened a shut her mouth a few times like a fish out of water, wondering absently if he'd use the 'I'm your king' against her often. Of course, this was hardly a pressing matter and the fact he'd said that hadn't really bothered her this time, but if the topic was more serious and he'd said that… Well, that's different.

Ora frowned a little in concern, "And as your suitress I insist that you get your rest."

"I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing you're beyond the halls without company."

"I'll have Giora."

"Like last time?"

Ora frowned at how stern and stubborn he was being, but turned back to her kneading, "Fine." She sulked and turned her attention back to her preparations.

"You're taking your baking skills to savoury foods now too?" Thorin asked after a few minutes silence. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him wandering about the kitchen, looking but not touching anything with his hands tightly clasped behind his back. She wondered for a moment of what he thought of the place.

"Well," Ora replied, "Lunch time is our busiest, so it would make sense to offer some savoury snacks too. We're just playing around with ideas, really."

"We?"

"Me and my g'ma." Ora began to roll the dough.

"Ah, yes, Balin has mentioned her, and her late husband."

Ora bit her cheek, "Aye, I've been told I take after him, although, I hope that doesn't include my waist size increasing with my age."

Thorin snorted at her comment and came to stand beside her, watching her work.

"Do you want to try?" She asked, smiling up at him a little. He was watching her hands work with his usual intense gaze, as if he was interested in what she was doing. But when she spoke his eyes shifted and his brows rose.

"I don't think I should. It's quite fascinating watching you, actually."

Ora grinned proudly, "Okay."

For the duration of her cooking, she could feel Thorin's intense, burning gaze on her, and it made her feel hot and bothered, but not unpleasantly. It was weird having him there while she technically worked, but again, she liked having him somewhat involved in such a big part of her life.

"My sister's birthday is coming up." Thorin suddenly said just as Ora pulled the pasties from the oven, the smell of pork and pastry filled the kitchen, making even Ora's satisfied stomach grumble.

"Oh?"

"We are having a dinner, in a months' time, and I was wondering if you'd join us."

Ora very nearly dropped the tray, but she just managed to push it onto the counter before turning to stare at Thorin like he'd just grown a second head.

Thorin just watched her back with his usual blank face, expectantly awaiting an answer.

"I don't know…" Ora trailed off, frowning and biting her lip. That sounded very daunting, bearing in mind that although she liked Lady Dis now, she was still a little wary of her, but other than that, the diner was no doubt to be filled with Noble's and Blue Bloods. She would definitely be out of place. "I'm afraid I'll be a bit of a sore thumb."

Thorin frowned a little, "It is up to you, but I would greatly appreciate your presence. Some of the Dwarves that will be attending are a little taxing."

_Great_, Ora thought.

"But you'd make in bearable."

It was funny, when Thorin complimented her, because the way he spoke it was like it was never intended to be a compliment at all, and he was just saying a straight fact. It was sweet, in a way.

"I will think about it." Ora replied, although still cautious. "But I don't want to make a fool of anyone."

"Dis has offered to help you with your etiquette skills, if you wish."

Ora's eyebrows rose, "Really?" She asked in a voice that was a mix or surprise and worry.

"Aye, I think she quite liked the idea. Of course, with Fili and Kili, she was never able to teach a girl any of the necessary skills she learnt. And the fact that those two never listen anyway." He grumbled the last part.

"Well, let her know I would greatly appreciate it." Ora smiled a little, coming to sit down at the small table with Thorin, the new, freshly baked pasties on a plate. "Although, I can't promise I'll be any good."

Thorin didn't reply, he just nodded.

.

.

.

_HAPPY BIRTHDAY RICHAAAAARDDDDDD_

_(although, technically it is 2am here, but I HAVEN'T SLEPT YET SO IT'S STILL HIS BIRTHDAY KINDA)_

_I had to update for his birthday_

_Hehehehe_

_Anyway_

_Hope you enjoy this pretty dull chapter, it's another filler/plot setting chapter_

_So I thought I'd throw in a little more kissing to lighen the mood_

_Anyway_

_Follow me on tumblr for snippets and what not, my user is BrightPinkPineapple_

_If you can't find me feel free to pm me your user or post it in the comments and I'll follow you!_

_Thank you all so much for you really, really kind reviews_

_All your comments mean the world to me so PLEASE keep them coming (:_

_MWAH_

_LOTS OF LOVE XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_


	20. Chapter 19

"Keep your back straight!"

"It is straight!"

"Straighter!"

Ora pulled herself so tall that she yelped and her back began to ache. She felt a few of the joints in her neck crack and strain, causing her to flinch and frown.

Dis simply sighed from her end of the table, "Now you look like you have a lemon in your mouth and a carrot up your bum."

Ora let out a loud laugh and instantly slumped a little. She hadn't spent much quality time with Dis, but over the past week she'd been meeting her every day for _etiquette lessons_. Not that Ora was making much progress, the only thing she'd gained was a sore back and neck, and the occasional stinging hand from whenever Dis would slap her for picking up the _wrong_ fork.

What she hadn't being doing, however, was seeing much of the king. In the past eight days she'd seen him twice, and one of those times was literally a passing through the halls as he was on his way to his study and she the bakery. She would never tell anyone, because it seemed childish and definitely selfish, but she almost wished he wasn't king just so she could actually spend some time with him. Of course, she'd never say that to anyone, she'd accepted his duty and station when she accepted his propose for courtship, and after all, she'd rather see him occasionally than not at all. No matter how much it hurt.

But today she _was_ going to see him, he'd promised to help her carry the flour from the docks in Dale back up to the Mountain and despite the notion being trivial and laborious she was so excited.

"Come on," Dis' loud, demanding voice pulled Ora from her thoughts, "Let's try again, blondie." One thing she'd very quickly learnt about Dis, even though she was pure blue-blood, when she wasn't in the public eye she hardly acted like a princess, and it actually made Ora feel very comfortable around her. Dis could take a joke (and give a few back) unlike Thorin, who would just sit there with a disproving look on his face. It was now very clear to Ora where Fili and Kili got their troublesome behaviour from.

Ora sighed and straightened up, rolling her shoulders as she did so in an attempt to loosen out some of the pain.

"Sore back?" Dis inquired, sounding far from concerned.

"Yes." Ora scoffed.

Dis snickered, "Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

Ora growled at that comment, bad mood spiralling. Dis just laughed.

For the rest of the afternoon, Dis got Ora pushing her bones to the absolute limit.

"It's because you're old." Dis sighed after a long silence.

Ora's eyes popped and she gasped loudly, spinning on her heel from where she was walking up and down Dis' front room, "I'm not old!" She fumed, puffing out her chest and standing at full height.

Dis suddenly grinned and clasped her hands together, "There we go! That's the posture I want!"

Ora's fury popped like a balloon, but she kept her stance, frozen like a statue. "This?"

"Yes! But don't pull that face, you look silly."

Ora instantly deflated with a groan, and rolled her neck until it cracked. "This is far more difficult than I thought."

Both Dis and Ora jumped when the front door suddenly swung open.

"Mahal!" Dis squawked furiously, marching towards her brother and king who leisurely strolled into the room, eyes already set on Ora. "Do you not know how to knock?! I'm trying to set an example-"

"Can I speak to Ora, please?" His eyes flickered to Dis, "In private?"

Dis frowned, but didn't say a word when she simply nodded and made her way towards one of the opposite doors. But she didn't forget to flash Ora a confused look before leaving the room.

"Is everything all right?" Ora asked after a few awkward minutes silence. She felt a little nervous, actually, with Thorin watching her with such intensity, doubled with the fact that she wasn't really sure how to act around him now, after not seeing him for so long.

Thorin didn't reply, but his smouldering crystal gaze dropped from holding her eyes to the length of her body, then back up again.

"Thorin?" Ora raised her brow, and her eyes popped a little when he strode towards her, banishing the distance between them in minimal, heavy steps. His thick boots hit the solid floor with strong thuds, and his raven hair fell over his shoulder.

If his next actions hadn't followed, she would have sworn he was angry at her. Never had someone looked at her with such force and passion. She even squeaked a little when he grabbed her around the waist almost roughly, but her noise was drowned out by his low growl as he crashed his lips to hers. For a moment, Ora was a little bit surprised and taken aback by his sudden, outlandish actions, but when one of his hands knotted into her hair and pulled to angle her head into a position where he could deepen the kiss, she instantly submitted with a soft moan. Her head instantly soared, and her stomach filled with those nauseating, yet wonderful butterflies. She smiled into the kiss, revelling in the feeling of Thorin's hot tongue sliding up against hers.

Ora rose her arms and slid her hands over the soft furs of his coat before gripping them gently- for support more than anything- her knees were weak and if it wasn't for Thorin's thick, strong arm holding her from around her waist she surely would have fallen over.

When they broke away, Ora watched Thorin's face with silent lust, her eyes trailing over his moist, slightly swollen lips and partially hooded eyes.

"That was... unexpected..." Ora only just managed to muster her words through pants before swallowing hard.

Thorin's lip curled upwards a little, before fully cracking into a smile and chuckling for a brief moment. The sound vibrated his chest and coursed through Ora, causing her to grin lazily back.

He didn't reply though, and simply removed his hand from where it still held the back of Ora's head and tucked a loose strand of golden curl behind her ear with sudden gentleness. They stayed like that for a long few minutes, just holding each other, Ora's hands moved once again over Thorin's furs, while his gently drew circles at the small of her back.

When there was a sudden, loud, impatient knock from the door on the far side of the wall, Ora jumped away from Thorin with a yelp.

Thorin grunted, "I'm surprised you bothered to knock, sister."

The door swung open to reveal a very unimpressed looking Dis, but her expression immediately changed when her eyes found a red faced, very flustered looking Ora desperately trying to fix her hair and smooth down her dress.

"Well, Thorin, I didn't know you had it in you."

Instantly, Ora wanted to crawl into a cave and die.

"I simply wanted to see how she was fairing."

"And her poor, little red face tells me you definitely found out." Dis jested back with a wink in Ora's direction. Ora could have sworn even her toes were blushing.

Ora squirmed when she felt Thorin's crystal gaze on her, even though her eyes were on the floor there was no escaping that intense look. "Apologies." He said flatly.

Ora's eyes immediately snapped upwards, expanding to the size of dinner plates in bewilderment. "Oh! Please don't apologise! It's fine! I mean, it _was_ fine - I mean, it was great! Erm, you're fine, erm-"

Ora clamped her mouth closed when Dis suddenly roared with laughter, and even Thorin smirked a little at her inappropriate ramblings.

"How is everything going here, by the way?" The king asked, implying he was inquiring about the progress of the etiquette lessons.

Both Ora and Dis shot each other a look, and in unison they both let out an ,"Errrr."

Thorin snorted, but if it was out of disproval or humour Ora couldn't decipher.

"I better let you get on with things then." Thorin said, inclining his head towards his sister, before turning back to Ora, "I will see you later."

Ora's stomach swarmed with butterflies all over again, and she couldn't help herself but nod excitedly. "Yes, I will see you later."

Thorin then offered her a small smile and a nod, before taking his leave. As soon as the large, oak door had such behind him, the room suddenly felt empty and hollow. Ora was still amazed by how much purpose Thorin brought with him where ever he went.

"I haven't seen my brother smile so much in a long, long time."

Ora, who was still watching the door where Thorin had just exited, turned to Dis to find the older, dark haired Dwarrowdam looking at her with the most sincere, grateful expression that she'd ever seen on anyone, let alone the light-hearted princess.

.

.

.

"This is a bad idea, this is a _really_ bad idea."

"Shush would you?! Better to get it over a done with. You're the one who didn't want to put it in a letter." Ora hissed, pulling at Uli's arm to guide her through the busy Dale market. Despite Uli's verbal protests and grumblings, she did actually submit and let Ora guide her.

"Which way is it?" Ora asked after a few minutes.

"Left up here."

Left they went, and then right, and then left again until they were well away from the busy market square and into the housing. It was all strange to Ora, the way humans lived; they lived in singular structures made of wood, which seemed silly to her. No wonder Smaug caused so much destruction, if they'd been sensible and built their buildings from stone or any other solid, durable material, there wouldn't have been nearly as much devastation.

Without warning, Uli ground to a halt, causing Ora who was still walking in front to snap back and yelp as she bumped into Uli. She was about to spin around and scold her, a firm frown all ready set on her face, when she saw Uli's blank expression and absent look in her eyes.

"This is his house."

Ora followed Uli's gaze to a house identical to all the others. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Uli shook her head, "No, this is something I need to do on my own." Without even looking back at Ora, she stepped forward towards the house and knocked on the door. When the thin, poorly made door to Dwarven standards opened, Ora didn't get the chance to see the figure from where she stood on the other side of the walkway. Light was fading now, and a brisk, sharp chill blew down the narrow spaces between the buildings, catching Ora's hair and harshly reminding her that winter was indeed in full swing. She shivered in her boots and drew her thick coat tighter around herself, mildly hoping that Uli's little _'chat'_ wouldn't be a particularly long one.

Guilt hit her like a stone wall when Uli came hurrying out the front door only minutes later, stumbling over her dress as she did. Immediately, Ora came to her aid, grabbing and holding Uli right there as the young miner's daughter threatened to collapse on the cobbled floor, heaving and sobbing loudly.

Ora spared a glance over Uli's shoulder, instantly turning it into a glare when she spied a young looking lad in the doorway, his expression unreadable and eyes set on the hysterical Uli. He had chestnut coloured hair, a narrow face and a long nose. His face was bare, bar a dusting of stubble. From what Ora knew about humans he looked somewhere in his twenties.

"Ga caragu sigim rukhas!" She yelled, gesturing him to turn away. Which he did, without hesitation.

Ora didn't need to ask Uli what had happened, because her unstoppable tears and howl-like wails spoke louder than any words, and it utterly broke her heart to see her friend in such a state. But people were beginning to stare at the grief-stricken Dwarrowdam collapsed on her frostbite riddled friend, so Ora thought it best if they slowly made a move back towards the mountain, at least that way she could take Uli back home to where she could lament in peace.

It took a long while, but by the time they'd reached the main doors to the mountain Uli had exhausted her supply of tears. Which was probably a good thing too, because Dwarves weren't a race to show weakness, let alone cry, so Uli's tears would definitely have raised some eyebrows.

The pair of them walked the halls in silence, with Ora steering them away from anyone they might know, and Uli keeping her head down to cover her face. She may no longer be crying, but the aftermath or the tears was still fresh on her features.

"Do you want me to get you something to eat?" Ora asked softly, once Uli was safely tucked up in bed.

Wiping her nose on the back of her hand, Uli nodded her head, letting out another sob when a tendril of red hair swept over her face. Softly, Ora brushed it back before offering a faint smile.

"I'll be right back." She said tenderly, "Don't go anywhere."

Ora made quick work of getting down the food hall, practically running through the halls and shoving Dwarves that got in her way.

"Excuse me! Coming though," _Shove_! "Sorry, it's an emergency!" _Shove_!

She knew full well her actions were hardly _proper_ for a _lady_, and that if Dis saw her manhandling the other mountain occupants like she was, the princess would probably feed her to a pack of Wargs. But that didn't matter right now, all that mattered was that Uli was upset and she needed to cheer her up. Not to mention that she was undoubtedly in a huge predicament now she was with child but no husband.

Grabbing a plate and quite literally piling it with any food she could possibly reach, Ora was completely oblivious to the presence coming up behind her, of course, right up until the king cleared his throat.

Ora jumped a little, sending a few lone carrots flying off the plate before spinning around, a potato rolling away in the process.

"Erm, your majesty." Ora offered an awkward curtsy, not really knowing how to greet Thorin. She smiled sheepishly.

"What are you doing?" He asked, bypassing the formalities with a blank expression as he eyed her and then the plate.

"Just getting some dinner," Ora replied, feeling a little guilty about lying. But, no, she wasn't lying actually. She _was_ getting some dinner, it just wasn't technically for _her_.

"With spinach?" He inquired, cocking his brow and crossing his thick arms over his broad chest, appearing even more intimidating than he already was. The hilt of his sword poked out from behind the folds of his thick, dark coat, and Ora was acutely aware that the of the majority of the halls occupants had their eyes on her and their king.

"Pardon?" She blinked up at him.

"Spinach. You have spinach on that plate. You don't like spinach."

Ora opened and closed her mouth for a few moments like a fish out of water. "How do you know I don't like spinach? And it's for Uli, she'd unwell."

Thorin didn't look impressed, and ignored her question. "Who's Uli?"

Feeling a little claustrophobic from all the questions, her defences prickled a little. Why was it any of his business?

_Because he is the king_, She reminded herself. _He can do whatever he wants_.

Her king or not, she didn't appreciate being hounded with questions. Nor did she like the fact that he was demanding her submission.

"She's my friend." Was her stubborn reply, her expression as hard as his as she matched him. "And like I said, she is unwell. I must get back to her. I will see you later and explain further then. Good day." She nodded her head and was about to turn to make her leave when the king spoke again.

His tone was as flat as ever, deep and rumbling, and relatively low so only she could hear in their close proximity.

"I can't." He replied, topaz eyes as hard as the gems they took after.

"Pardon?"

"I can no longer escort you to the docks tonight. Apologies."

Ora's anger flared when he sounded anything but sorry. In fact, he sounded a little bored.

"So, you cannot go." He continued and Ora's eyebrows jumped into her hair line.

"I-I'm sorry?" She stammered, utterly bewildered but his response.

"I said, you cannot go, as you won't have an escort I cannot permit you to leave the mountain at that time of night on your own. Do you understand?"

Ora's temper spiked furiously, and her knuckles turned white from gripping the plate so hard.

"I will take Giora then-"

"I said no, Ora." He had raised his voice only a little. But he had done it. Anger flashed in his eyes, and a completely polar Dwarf stood before her in comparison to the one earlier that afternoon in the Royal Quarters.

"But, why?" Ora knew she was walking on thin ice answering back to the king like that, but right now she felt pressurised, and if there was one thing she hated it was having her freedom jeopardised. She had fought Orcs, Wargs and Goblins for her liberty, and Mahal help her if she'd gone through all that just to have one mountain king take it all away.

Saying she was vexed right then would have been an understatement, because in fact, she was beyond furious.

Thorin dipped his head down so it was mere inches from her, his bright eyes flashing dangerously, and his lips curling downwards. "Because," He lowered his voice to what should have been a menacing growl, but Ora was too wound up to be afraid, "I am your king."

And there it was. Those eyes that only hours before had watched her so tenderly, now danced with fury and what looked like anguish.

Ora didn't say another word, but out of the corner of her eye she could see Dis marching towards them. But she didn't wait around to welcome the fury that was Dis, instead, she very rudely turned on her heal and marched back out the hall.

Ora had bigger problems to worry about than a moody, temperamental king. Uli needed her, and her friends took priority over any suitor.

Ora gritted her teeth then. _Suitor_.

Thorin had another thing coming if he honestly thought Ora wasn't going to get that flour tonight. Whether she be with Giora or on her own, she would be damned if she didn't do even if it was just to spite him.

Beneath her blind rage, however, her heart broke a little bit, but she was too would up to even notice it. But underneath all the anger, she felt betrayed and deceived, she felt as though Thorin had made a fool of her. The previous thoughts of her being groomed to be his bed maiden took root in her mind once more. After all, he'd came and found her earlier just to get what he wanted, he'd never made that much effort for the past week or so.

_She'll show him._

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_._

_._

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_WHERE HAVE I BEEN?_

_HAHA_

_actually i have no excuse what so ever, time has literally just escaped me over this past week or so_

_I've been bogged with work and stuff so that might be why idek_

_anyway_

_HOPE YOU LIKEEEE_

_thank you so much to all those who have favourited and followed!_

_and thank you sososoosososoosososos much to all those who have reviewed!_

_your comments mean the world to me, and they really do inspire me to write more and faster!_

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Ga caragu sigim rukhas - Go eat troll/orc dung

tehehehehehehe


	21. Chapter 20

Ora stayed with Uli right up until the redheaded Dwarrowdam fell asleep, then she went back to her own chambers and got some well needed rest, all the while pushing every thought of Thorin out of her head. She was still red with rage towards him, after all, he had not own publically humiliated her but also tried to put her on a leash.

"Pfft!" She let out a loud huff at the thought, hopping around her room as she struggled to get one of her boots on in the scarce light. Once the wrestle was over and won, she grabbed her dagger from her dresser drawer and shoved it inside her boot. A girl can never be too careful.

She made care not to make too much noise as she ventured from her room and snuck across the cold main floor towards her brother's room. She may be mad at Thorin, but she wasn't foolish, she was going to at least _try_ to get Giora to come with her.

"Wake up, you Troll." She hissed, as she snuck into his room. His deep snoring helped her navigate his presence through the dark chamber. "I need flour." She shook his shoulder, softly to begin with, but her movements soon turned harsh in an attempt to get him to stir.

Giora grunted, snorted, and then yelped and pushed his sister away. "What?" He hissed, "It's still night!"

"I know, but I need flour. You wouldn't make your little sister go down to the dock all on her own _again_, would you? What sort of brother would do that?"

There was a short pause, and she heard Giora yawn. "Do I have to?"

"No. But I'm sure you'll regret it if I got ambushed by some Orcs and killed." That was probably a tender spot for Giora, but Ora knew it worked every time.

"Fine." He grunted after a moment, "Give me a minute, would you?"

Ora grinned through the darkness and left the room without another word. She waited in the front room for Giora to reappear. Which he did, only a few minutes later donning his sword across his hip and stretching before hauling his axe over his back. "Ready?"

Ora nodded and jumped up from one of the loungers and made her way towards the door.

The walk through the mountain was of course a silent one, they didn't want to make too much of a disturbance and Ora made a point to give any wandering guard a really wide birth. Giora didn't make much objection, and Ora assumed it was because he'd probably already heard about the incident in the Dining Hall with the king. But he knew better than to probe. It was either he go with Ora, even though he would undoubtedly get into trouble for it, or let her go alone and risk her safety. He knew she would go no matter what, and he knew it was to spite the king.

"So…" Giora's voice broke the calm silence once the pair were safely out of Erebor.

Ora glanced up at him and raised her brow, "So?"

"The king…"

Ora instantly groaned.

"So, it's true?" Giora asked, surprised.

"Depends what you believe is true."

"There are a few rumours circulating the guards… Most of them I hope aren't true, and the rest are undoubtedly lies anyway."

Ora smirked, "Pray tell?"

"Some of them are saying you're… erm… bedding the king."

Ora instantly snorted at that, and Giora sighed, "I guess that one's not true then? Well, that's a relief, for sure."

"And the rest?" Ora pressed.

"That you are courting the king."

Ora gulped, and her fingers instinctively reached up and grazed the little gold necklace that still hung around her throat under her dress. Suddenly, her nails dug angrily into the gem. "No." She grunted, trying to restrain the temptation to snarl. "I'm not."

Telling the king she was rejecting his courtship had crossed her mind a few times over the past few hours. She was unbelievably hurt by his actions, and she actually felt a little worried that if she stayed with him that his actions would worsen. But, somehow, she couldn't quite bring herself to do it just yet, she need more time to think, and a small, tiny part of her was hoping that he would somehow redeem himself.

She restrained the urge to shake her head. And how would he do that? It's not like she ever saw the Dwarf anyway, so how would he never be able to make it up to her enough?

"Ora? Are you all right?"

Ora was dragged from her thoughts by her brothers surprisingly concerned voice, "What? Sorry, I'm still a bit tired; not really with it."

Giora frowned but nodded all the same. He looked like he wanted to tell her something, but Ora didn't press. If her brother was going to tell her something, he would have done it by now, he wasn't one to beat around the bush.

They approached the docks just as they saw the ship coming in on the horizon, and the pair of them waited patiently on the water front. They was only a few others there, including an Elf and three Dwarves, the other five people were humans. Ora knew a few of them, simply because they were regulars, and nodded politely as she and Giora passed. Being a Dwarf, she didn't particularly like Elves, but this one – she could never remember his silly name – wasn't horrible, and was actually quite respectful, so she held nothing against him. Giora however, buffed out his chest as they passed the fair faced creature like an angry bird.

"Why would someone want that much fruit?" Giora growled, his eyes watching the Elf carrying away several crates of berries and the like.

Ora only spared a glance, "He likes to make jam. He gave me a pot once."

"You ate it?" Giora hissed with a grimace, eyes flaring at her.

Ora smirked, "I did, actually. And so did you, I put it on your toast one morning."

Ora laughed hard at her brother utterly horrified expression, but stopped when she felt someone approach her.

"Good – er – well, I suppose it's morning, really, Miss Ora." A middle aged human, with a dark brown beard which was now lacing with grey stepped towards Ora and Giora, over his shoulder was a large sack of flour.

"Good morning to you too, Master Page, how are you fairing these days?" Ora asked politely, hopping down from the low wall she was sitting on and making her way over towards the man, offering him a friendly smile.

"All is good, all is good." He replied, setting the flour down and glancing past Ora and over towards Giora. "And you too, Master Giora, long time no see!"

"Ah, yes, apologies, I was a little busy last time my sister came down." Giora replied, coming up behind Ora and clasping a large hand into Master Pages outstretched palm.

"Yes, yes, so I heard." Page gave Ora a knowing look, which caused her to laugh. "I got the usual for you today, one sack, although I have more if you need it."

"No, no, one is fine." Ora replied, fishing around in her coat and drawing out her coin purse.

"You need to get yourself a pony," Page said, taking the gold coins from Ora and thanking her for it. "It's cheaper in bulk."

"Aye, we know," Giora replied, bending down and easily hauling the sack of flour over his shoulder much in the same way Thorin had done. Although, he grunted and widened his stance a little more to accommodate the new weight, whereas Thorin had no trouble at all.

Ora wanted to slap herself. _Stop thinking about Thorin!_

"But I fear our pony is much too old for this journey."

Page nodded knowingly, "Ah, I see, I see. Well, no problem." He gave them both a small smile, and tipped his shabby cap towards them in respect. "Both of you have a fine day."

"You too, Master Page. See you next time." And with that, Ora and Giora both left the bay, starting the trek back up towards the mountain. Far on the horizon, the sky was already beginning to turn pink.

"Hm, I guess the boat was later today than usual." Ora observed absentmindedly.

Giora simply grunted in response, and shifted the flours weight a little.

"Do you want some help?" Ora offered.

"No." Giora replied quickly, making Ora smirk.

The rest of the journey they didn't really speak much. Ora was growing tried, but she'd occasionally say a random thought that grossed her mind. The pair of them had been quiet for a few minutes, and Ora was just about to mention something trivial when Giora beat her to it.

"Imagine if you were courting the king."

Ora momentarily blanked out, and stumbled on the rocks.

"What?"

"The king, imagine if you were courting him. Imagine the king asking pa's permission for your hand." Ora could hear the humour in his voice, and she couldn't restrain her own snicker.

"Aye, I guess that would be quite funny." Something in her chest tore a little, and she didn't know if it was because she was torn between that actually happening, or it not happening. She shook her head.

"I think ma would keel over with joy, and g'ma would probably throw cakes or something."

Ora giggled, feeling her spirit lift at the idea of her little g'ma throwing desserts at the king if he upset her. She sort of wished she'd do that now.

"I'd be surprised if she hasn't done it already, actually."

Ora raised her brow, almost hopefully, "Oh?"

"Aye, after how he spoke to you yesterday in the Dining Hall."

Ora snorted, "You heard about that then."

"Everyone heard about it, Ora."

"And yet you're still here." Ora smiled at her brother and gave him an affectionate nudge, referring to the fact that Giora obviously knew she was forbidden to make this journey.

Giora snorted. "As soon as I heard I knew you'd be going, I can't let you go on your own, can I?"

Ora snickered, "You did last time."

"Pfft, details."

Ora laughed, "But you do realise how much trouble you'd be in if you get caught, right?"

"Aye, but that's not going to- Oh." Giora suddenly ground to a halt, causing Ora to frown at him. Noticing that he was looking up towards the mountain entrance Ora followed his gaze, and then gulped.

Dwalin was standing at the top of the steps, flanked by two other guards. His thick arms were crossed over his large chest, and his expression was menacing.

Ora quickly spared a glance over the side of the mountain road. Wondering what would kill her faster; Dwalin, the King, or the drop?

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"Where are we going?" Ora's voice was surprisingly calm as she scurried along behind Dwalin as he strode through the halls. She'd already told him that going to the docks was all her idea, and that she made Giora come along, so, thankfully, he got off lightly with just a hard look from the Head Guard.

"To see the king."

"At this time? Surely he's—"

"He's awake."

"Oh. Okay." Ora frowned, but she wasn't scared or nervous, astonishingly enough. In fact, she felt fatigued. If the king was going to yell at her, or scold her, or treat her like some sort of child, then she would surely crack.

Ora yawned.

"Keeping you up?" Dwalin growled.

Ora fumed a little, and snapped back: "Actually, yes."

In response Dwalin rolled his shoulders back and picked up the pace. Ora had to nearly jog to keep up with him, and had a faint stitch by the time they reached the royal quarters.

Dwalin knocked three times on the large, oak door of the king's private chambers. Ora waited impatiently with her arms tightly folded across her chest and a firm scowl planted across her face, which didn't falter when the doors swung open to reveal an equally unimpressed looking Thorin.

His gaze instantly landed on Ora, and her scowl involuntarily turned into a glare.

"Look who I found." Dwalin grumbled, taking Ora's shoulder and pushing her forward. Thorin didn't say a word while he gestured for Ora to enter, which she did, albeit reluctantly.

"That will be all, Dwalin. Thank you." Thorin finally said, his voice worryingly monotone. Dwalin simply nodded, and closed the door behind him.

Ora strode towards the fire, holding out her hands to its warmth and keeping her back firmly facing Thorin. She was even more angry now than she had been in the Dining Hall.

Thorin didn't say a word for a long time, but Ora could feel his steely gaze boring into the back of her skull and she could hear his heavy footsteps trailing back and forth. But she refused to speak first and ground her teeth.

"So, you went to the docks."

Thorin's voice was low, and she could hear that in his tone alone he was struggling to hold his temper. Maybe, if he'd tried so hard earlier to bottle it, they wouldn't be in this mess now.

"So it seems." Ora sassed back, her tone sharper.

"I forbade you to."

Ora then swung around so fast that if she wasn't so riled up she probably would have fallen over. But instead she stood there, teeth grating and eyes glaring daggers. Thorin was leaning forward onto the back of one of the loungers, hands clasped in front of him, and expression unreadable.

"You forbade me?" Ora snapped, trying hard not to hiss, "Like some sort of _dog_?"

Thorin straightened up then, eyes still set on her as he moved around the lounger. His calm demeanour was actually beginning to intimidate Ora. She couldn't work out what he was thinking, or feeling, and it was making her feel vulnerable to have her emotions so clearly on display.

"Rumours are circulating," He began, taking a step towards Ora, and he went to take another step when Ora moved back. He paused, and something like anguish flashed in his eyes. But it was gone as quick as it came.

"What rumours."

"That we are courting. I can't have you becoming a target, Ora."

Ora blinked, "What?"

"There is a possibility that someday you will become my queen, and you are vulnerable. How many queens do you see wandering around on their own at night?"

That's why he barred her from going? Because he believed her to be in danger?

"Why did you refuse to come with me?"

"Because it would have raised suspicion. You were the one who said you wanted to keep us a secret, weren't you?"

"Oh."

That was true. So, Thorin had refused to go with her because he didn't want any more rumours to be planted? And he didn't want her going with anyone else because of safety?

"Well, you didn't need to be so rude about it. You humiliated me." Ora grunted.

"I was trying to stomp out any rumours about us by pretending there was no affection between us, could you not see that? People would not assume we were courting if I spoke to you like that. It was an act. I thought that was what you wanted? Or do you want to go public now?"

"Ye-No! I'm mad at you!" Ora folded her arms over her chest again, and her scowl deepened.

"Why?" Thorin took another step closer, and Ora quickly side stepped him, going to stand behind the lounger where he'd previously been.

"Because you said all of that stuff in the hall! And the fact that I haven't seen you probably for over a week and yet the only time you come to find me is when you want _something_!" Ora couldn't help but raise her voice. Her heart was racing, and it felt like it was being crusted under all the strain.

Thorin was silent for a long moment. "Is that what you think of me?" His voice was louder this time, and Ora knew they were tipping on the verge of what could be a nasty argument. But, instead, she decided to nip it in the bud.

"I don't know what I think of you anymore."

The only thing that followed her words for a few painfully long minutes was silence. Ora was staring at the floor, unable to face him when she'd said those last words, but she heard the sound of his boots hitting the floor as he came towards her. Suddenly, she felt thick, rough hands gently holding either side of her face. Thorin pulled her head up, forcing her to look at him.

"You don't mean that." His voice was low and monotone, his face expressionless and eyes empty when he looked at her. His eyes looked like they were searching her face for a sign, or anything that was prove that her words were lies.

Ora took a deep breath and swallowed, "Is this how it's going to be?"

"I cannot see you all the time because I am king, and you wanted us to stay a secret. Do you think I like not having you by my side every minute of every day? If you formally accept my courtship then you can. You will be my consort."

Ora frowned. Confused didn't even begin to explain how she felt. Only moments ago she was shaking with rage. She was convinced that he was an arrogant Troll who only wanted to bed her. But, now, she'd found out that barring her from venturing from the mountain at night without proper protection was simply for her safety, because the circulating rumours could have caused potential threats, and that he was only rude to her about it because he wanted to stamp out any rumours that were lingering, _for her_. Two birds with one stone, almost.

She fought the frown that threatened to take hold on her face again, simply because she was annoyed that his plan was actually rather clever, and cunning, and that she apparently wasn't clever or cunning enough to realise it was all an act. Also, she was annoyed he'd done it in the first place, he didn't need to be so hard on her.

She made a mental note not to let this slide so easily. But, from what she could tell, his concern was genuine, and his intentions were seemingly good. Thorin certainly had a strange way of going about things.

"You want me to be your consort?" Ora was still unsure about how to feel.

Thorin's blank expression didn't move, but it changed entirely. His eyes lit up, as if he'd finally found light.

"Nothing would make me happier."

Ora tried to fight away her grin, but couldn't. In the end she groaned, "I'm mad at you."

"And I'm mad at you for leaving this mountain with only Giora, but at least he's better than nothing."

Ora bit the inside of her cheek, "Are you really annoyed?"

"I broke many things when Dwalin told me he'd spotted you leaving Erebor."

"Good." Ora raised a finger and poked him in the chest. She very nearly squealed when her finger didn't meet solid armour under the royal blue tunic, but instead only hit Dwarf. "That'll serve you right for speaking to me like a troublesome child."

"You are troublesome though."

"Oh! And before I forget, if you ever- and I mean _ever_- say to me again as a response that 'I am your king, that's why', you better learn to sleep with one eye open."

Thorin had the cheek to smirk at her, "Duly noted." Ora could feel both of his thumbs gently caress her cheeks, making her feel priceless. Thorin was looking at her like she was the most precious thing he'd ever laid eyes on, and it made her feel like it too.

"I'm sorry for leaving Erebor just to spite you."

Thorin paused and raised his brow. "You left _just_ to spite me? It had nothing to do with the fact you're running low on flour?"

Ora shrugged, "I don't like being told what to do."

Thorin sighed, letting his hands drop to her shoulders. His expression turned serious once more. "Next time I ask you to do something, or not to do it, please listen to me." There was something in his voice that sparked curiosity within her.

"Why? Is something going to happen?"

Thorin seemed to hesitate, but only for a moment before letting his hands drop entirely from her and straightening up. "No."

"Tell me, Thorin."

"It doesn't concern you."

Ora raised her brow and folded her arms over her chest. "I'm sure it concerns the king's consort."

Thorin raised both brows at her, "Is that your way of accepting?"

Ora paused, "Yes. I thought it would be more romantic than that, but yes."

"Well, then, I should have you know that there is nothing on the horizon, but associations with the line of Durin do not come without their own risks. I have to know that if something happens you _will_ listen to me."

Ora frowned, but eventually she nodded all the same. "Very well." She then yawned, but spied the sun coming up over the horizon through the windows the Royal chambers had.

"Tired?"

"Extremely. But, what does a king's consort _do_ actually?"

Thorin's lips curled upwards a little, "You are a step back from the queen, so for support, advice, company, care."

"Pfft, I do most of that anyway."

Thorin smiled fully then, and the look still made Ora feel weak at the knees. She was glad when Thorin's arms wrapped around her once more, and she was able to lean on his solid body for support. She dared to let her fingers roam over the soft material of his tunic, revelling in the thought that there was just a layer of thin fabric separating her from his bare skin. Even through the material she could feel his solid muscles and warm flesh, and she loved every bit of it.

She felt Thorin pull her closer, and she dropped her hands from his chest to his waist when his fingers knotted in her hair and brought her face to his, catching their lips together.

Thorin's lips were rough and gentle against hers, slow in movement but still deep enough to be tender and meaningful. Ora purred into his mouth, absentmindedly letting her fingers trail to the hem of his long tunic, and before she could even stop herself her hands disappeared underneath it to touch the hot skin on Thorin's hard stomach.

He growled when Ora's wandering fingers began to follow the grooves and crevasses of his muscles, every so often letting a wild digit glide over a scar or two.

Pride swelled within her, the thought that she was holding such a noble Dwarf was still so overwhelming to her.

Thorin groaned when Ora's hands trailed upwards, her heart was beating so fast by this point she thought it would hammer out of her chest if she wasn't careful. She kept telling herself to take her hands away, that she was over stepping the mark by touching the king like she was. But she couldn't bring herself to take her palms away from the irresistible, almost addictive skin that tempted her so badly. Also, Thorin's growls were hardly a sign that he wanted her to stop, and his tongue forcing its way into her mouth to tangle with hers was another.

Funnily enough, she wasn't so tired anymore.

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_Eh ehe eh_

_Here's another chapterrrrrrr!_

_I'm updating tomorrow too! Yay!_

_Anyway, please let me know what you think of this chapter, and the story so far!_

_Your comments literally mean the word to me, I love hearing what you have to say (: _

_Also, I was actually going to have ora and thorin have a huge argument, which is what I think a lot of people were expecting, so of course, I had to change that_

_Hehehe_

_But don't worry, I'm not depriving you of some yelling, you'll just have to wait! That argument definitely isn't over yet!_

_Thank you!_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_


	22. Chapter 21

To have said that Ora was nervous would have been an understatement, because, in fact, she was beyond petrified to the point that her hands were shaking so badly she had to hide them in the folds of her pretty yellow dress.

She'd worked in the bakery that morning, and managed to leave early just after lunch. She'd had a quick wash and change, and now she was on her way to the King's Hall. It had worked out rather well, actually, because Thorin had meetings that morning, so Ora was able to work and prepare herself for that afternoon.

"Ah! There you are, Ora." Dis appeared out of nowhere just as Ora turned the final corner towards the Hall. "I was looking for you." The princess grabbed Ora's arm before the blonde could do anything else.

"You were?" She asked nervously.

"Yes, I wanted to give you a quick briefing."

Ora visibly relaxed a little, "Thank you."

Dis waved her hand around as if to waft Ora's words anyway. "Don't mention it. Now, the king is with Lord Dain- Don't panic!" Dis quickly added, noticing Ora tense up all over again and grind them both to a halt. "He's lovely, honestly, nothing to be afraid of." Dis grabbed Ora by her shoulders and shook her a little, "In fact, if there was anyone you had to meet on your first day, I'm glad it's him."

"Really?"

"Really. I promise, you have nothing to worry about." Dis smiled down at her so sincerely that Ora couldn't help but relax a little, her breathing slowly returning to normal.

"Okay, then what?"

"Well, you will greet him appropriately like we practiced, then you simply stand beside Thorin and smile."

Ora raised her brow sceptically, "That's it?"

"Aye, for today. Dain is only here on an informal visit so it's nothing too demanding. Although, he will most likely make you join the conversation, which I'm sure you can handle. He's just friendly 'tis all. Boisterous at best, but you have a brother, don't you? So I'm sure it's nothing you can't handle."

Ora opened her mouth to ask _what_ exactly he might do but Dis didn't give her the chance to speak before she began towing her back towards the King's Hall.

"Remember," Dis whispered as they walked over the threshold, "Smile, and keep that back straight!"

Instantly Ora straightened up, just as she spotted Thorin standing before his throne. He had his back to Ora and Dis, but Dain alerted everyone in the mountain of their presence.

"Ah! So this much be the lovely Ora!"

_Oh, Mahal_… Ora thought, supressing the urge to run and hide when Dain pushed past Thorin and began to march towards Dis and herself. He had a mischievous grin on his face, clearly visible under his wild mass of beard.

"Be careful with her, Dain," Dis said through a snicker, "She's new to all this."

"Oh, don't worry, I'll break her in!" And with that he clasped Ora by the shoulders and head butted her, much the same way Dis had done, but _a lot_ harder.

Ora yelped a little, but barely stumbled on the impact, "What is it with you Durin's folk and head butting me?" She wasn't meant to say that out loud, but her brain was spinning so violently that her thoughts and speech had become muddled.

In response, Dain threw his head back and boomed with laughter, "I like her, cousin." Dain hooted just as Thorin came up and joined them. Lord Dain gave Thorin a friendly elbow, causing the king to grumble, his eyes fixed on Ora. She simply offered him a reassuring smile, and his face instantly cooled. "She has a thick skull, good trait that!"

"I'm glad you think so." Ora replied, still smiling a little whilst rubbing her forehead, "My brother will be pleased to hear that his years of head butting me have finally paid off."

Dain laughed once more. It was almost scary how loud it was, and it was definitely a noise Ora would have to get used to, but Dain seemed harmless enough. Ora smirked, thinking how Ava would keel over with excitement if she knew she was here with Lord Dain.

The rest of the afternoon went by surprisingly breezily. Ora spent most of her time chatting with Fili and Kili, seeing as Thorin and Dain seemed to be in a conversation about battles and weapons – not really something Ora was particularly interested in. The brothers on the other hand were happy to talk about their adventures, and Ora was more than happy to listen. Fili and Kili were definitely amusing to talk to.

"Miss Ora!"

Ora turned when her name was called, obviously she knew it was Lord Dain, his voice was very distinctive.

"Yes, my Lord?" She replied politely.

"Thorin tells me you know how to yield a sword." Dain moved from where he stood before the throne and came to stand by Ora just off to the left of it.

"Oh, aye, I do."

"He also tells me you've had your fair share of adventures." Ora knew Dain was just being inquisitive about her, which he had every right to. But Ora still had to fight hard to supress a frown as she glanced over the burly Dwarves shoulder and towards Thorin, who was now in conversation with Dis. She knew she shouldn't mind people knowing about her time in The Wild, but she didn't like talking about it, and she didn't like the idea that Thorin was so openly telling people about it.

But, for now, she suppressed her agitation and simply nodded up at Lord Dain, offering him a light smile. "Aye, I suppose I have. None like the princes though." She glanced back at Fili and Kili, making them both grin broadly.

"But still, it's very impressive to see a woman such as yourself have experience."

Ora didn't really know if that was a compliment or not. She wouldn't call her past 'experience' because if she could, she'd take all her memories away in a heartbeat. Her time without a home was far from happy.

"It is?" She decided to say at last.

"Oh, aye! From what Thorin's told me you're quite the little warrior. I think it's good that he finally has someone who understands him."

Ora blinked up at Dain for a moment, "I-I suppose so."

Dain suddenly clasped one large hand on Ora's shoulder, and she braced herself for what she thought was going to be another head butt, but, to her surprise, Dain simply lowered his head so he could speak quietly into her ear.

"Look after him for me, would you?" When he pulled away, Ora simply nodded up at him, slightly taken aback by just how sincere he sounded towards his cousin.

"I hope you're not scaring her again, Dain!" Dis called from beside the throne. Ora turned her head just in time to see a flocking of noble Dwarrowdams enter the Hall. She died a little inside when she saw Fraught was amongst them, and the large Dwarf instantly locked eyes with Ora, and glared.

"Of course not, m'lady!" Dain replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes when he turned to Dis, "I'm just ensuring that the first heir she produces will be named after me!"

Ora choked on her own breath, which cause Dain to roar with laughter once more.

Instantly Ora's cheeks heated up, and she tried to avoid Thorin's crystal gaze as if her life depended on it.

.

.

.

"I apologise for Dain's behaviour."

Ora looked up from her plate, "Pardon?"

It was just her and Thorin now, and to be honest she couldn't have been happier, even though they were only eating supper in his quarters, but just being with him was enough to make her feel over the moon.

"Dain," Thorin repeated, although Ora had heard him, she hadn't understood what he'd actually meant. "I'm sorry for his behaviour this afternoon."

Ora frowned a little and shook her head, "I don't know what you mean. He was fine. There's nothing to apologise for, in fact, he made me feel a little more relaxed."

It was Thorin's turn to frown then, "He did?"

"Yes, I was worried that I would feel awkward and out of place, but he's quite… normal."

Thorin took his napkin and wiped his fingers on it before leaning back in his chair, raising his brow and watching her expectantly. "And I'm not?"

Ora squinted at him. Was he jealous?

Ora smirked and rolled her eyes. "That's not what I meant, Thorin. I'm simply saying that he isn't as..."

"As _what_?"

"He isn't as…" _Highly strung_? "Proper, as some of the rest of you Blue Bloods. I simply mean he was more like the folk I am used to. I wouldn't have known how to act if I was thrown into the deep end with some haughty Dwarf who looked down their nose at me."

Thorin seemed to relax a little then, seemingly understanding where she was coming from for he took to his dinner once more. "And me?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think of me?"

Ora paused then, watching Thorin from across the short table, "Are you feeling insecure, my king?"

Thorin flashed a glare at her as if to say 'do be serious', but it only made Ora laugh.

"I often feel out of place by your presence, Thorin, but that doesn't mean I mind it. You are hardly a common Dwarf, and I'm the most common Dwarf going!"

"You are hardly common." Thorin replied in his usual rumbling tone.

"My family is a normal, working, middle class one."

"But respectable none the less, and they have raised a well-rounded, strong daughter." Once again Thorin didn't seem to realise that he'd utterly smitten Ora by complimenting her. He never seemed to realise that he was even complementing her at all. So when she cooed loudly, he looked up from his dinner looking almost alarmed.

"Thank you." She replied sincerely.

Thorin frowned, looking confused, but nodded all the same.

There was a few minutes silence before he spoke again. Apparently, for him, he was being rather chatty.

"You need to get some more dresses, too."

Ora frowned, and quickly finished off her mouthful before replying, "What's wrong with the dresses I have?"

"They're working dresses."

"So?"

"So, you need some proper gowns."

Ora's frown deepened with annoyance, despite the fact she knew he was right. Her working dresses were hardly suitable for the consort of a king, but still, she felt a little bit defensive by his comment. Like her dresses weren't good enough for him – which they weren't – but that didn't mean he had to _point it out._

"I get paid soon, I will –"

"I'll set you up with a fitting tomorrow."

"I don't have the money tomorrow, I—"

"I said I'll set you up with a fitting tomorrow. You don't need money."

Ora bit the inside of her cheek. She didn't like the idea of Thorin paying for her, even if a few dresses probably wouldn't even make a scratch into his fortune, but that wasn't the point.

"Honestly, it's fine, I have my own seamstress, I'm sure I can sort out a tab with her." Ora wanted to hide under the table to avoid Thorin's burning stare.

"I'm offering you a gift, are you refusing it?"

Ora fought the urge to slam her head on the table. _Stubborn Dwarf!_

"I've never had anyone by me such gifts, Thorin, I don't feel comfortable with it."

Thorin paused for a long moment, "Fine. We'll have a deal. You choose your seamstress, and I will cover the dresses."

"That's not a deal." Ora muttered, but Thorin ignored her and continued.

"You can pay me back with baked goods."

Ora couldn't resist but throw her head back and laugh, mainly because Thorin sounded so serious when he said that. "Aye, all right, you've got yourself a deal."

.

.

.

"Have you heard anything from… _him_ yet, Uli?" Ora asked as she stood awkwardly on Anar's infamous wobbly stall. Her arms outstretched as the brunette hopped about her, gathering her measurements. One of the dresses Ora had decided to opt for was in the same fashion as Uli's '_hide the bump_' dress. She really liked the way it nipped in under the bust and then hung loose. She decided it would be ideal for when she wanted to eat a lot of food, as it wouldn't be as restricting as her other dresses. She had also decided to get it in a forest green colour with gold detailing. Anar said it would bring out her eyes and hair.

"No, not yet." Uli sighed, watching Anar work. Uli and Ora had found that it was perfectly safe to talk about _the_ subject whilst Anar was working, seeing as the Dwarrowdam was dead to the world as soon as she had a needle in one hand and a thread in the other.

"And how's the…" Ora nodded her head to Uli's stomach. Uli was lightly resting her hand over it and gently rubbing.

Uli shrugged, "Fine, I've been feeling really fatigued recently, but apparently that's perfectly normal. But other than that, not much is different. I'm beginning to show a little now though."

Ora furrowed her brow when Uli pulled her dress tight for a split moment, and indeed a small bump was noticeable.

"Everything always works out for the best." Ora said, trying to sound reassuring.

Uli snorted, seeing right through Ora's words. "That's easy for you to say," She muttered, "I'm damaged goods now. No one will have me once I start to show."

Ora shook her head, "You don't know that, and even if the worst does happen, you still will have a little babe. That's still more than some, after all."

Uli hesitated then. "I guess you're right." She sighed again and pouted.

"When are you going to tell the others?" Ora asked.

"Tell the others what?" Anar had literally just stepped back to grab some more pins when she re-joined Middle-Earth. Her large brown eyes shifted from Uli to Ora.

Ora gave Uli a pressing look.

Uli sighed, "Look, Anar, what I am about to tell you, you cannot tell anyone, do you—"

"Is it that you're pregnant?" Anar asked innocently. Ora and Uli both shared a silent look, before Ora burst out laughing so hard that she wobbled dangerously on the stool. If it wasn't for Anar reaching up and pushing her palm into her back Ora would have fallen off backwards.

Anar continued her expecting look at Uli, who stuttered and spluttered. "How did you know?" She eventually choked out.

Anar rolled her eyes, which made Ora hoot once more.

"You plan to _gain weight_? Really? Bearing in mind it was just around your _middle_." Anar folded her arms over her chest.

Ora snickered again, "Mahal, Anar, I didn't realise you had sass."

Uli gaped like a fish out of water, and then huffed loudly. "So you don't care?"

"Why would I care? I mean, _sure_, it's _your_ fault," Anar said, causing Uli to grunt loudly, "you didn't need to _jump_ into-"

"Okay, Anar, I know how it happened, thank you. Cut to the chase."

"I just think maybe you should give him some time. It's big news, after all."

Uli huffed again, "_Suuuure_, it's all right for _him_ to have some time. What about me, where's my time?"

Anar shrugged, "The binds of motherhood. Maybe Ora could ask the king for some advice."

Ora's head snapped to Anar then, "How did you…" She trailed off when Anar shot her an unimpressed look. "Yeah, you're right, maybe I could." Ora offered a little tentatively.

Uli shook her head furiously, "Don't tell the _king_! Mahal, Ora, he's the last person I want to know about this."

"He probably knows already." Anar said, causing both Uli and Ora to stare.

"Why would he know already?" Ora asked, nervously.

Anar frowned up at her, "He has guards following you nearly everywhere, have you _not_ noticed?"

Ora's jaw quite literally dropped to the floor. "What?!" She fumed, face red.

Anar frowned, "I thought you knew. They're in disguise, of course. The best one I've seen is a young one pretending he had a limp. As soon as you passed he quickly hurried away." Anar snickered, completely ignoring Uli's terrified look and Ora's horrified one. "I can't believe you hadn't noticed."

"I can't believe you have!" Uli gaped.

Anar shrugged, "You learn these things… Ora, are you all right?"

No, Ora wasn't all right. Ora was shaking with rage like a kettle about to go off.

.

.

.

Ora stormed towards the King's Hall, checking over her shoulder every few minutes to see if she could spy a guard.

"That little _goblin_!" She hissed upon seeing the Hall was deserted. Still fuming, she headed towards Thorin's study next, grumbling all the while under her breath.

She quite literally ploughed her way through the sea of Dwarves heading towards the Dining Hall. Mostly Miners having just finished a hard day's work.

As soon as she got to Thorin's study, she raised a closed fist and almost punched the door until it swung open to reveal a very disgruntled looking Thorin. However, upon seeing it was Ora who was causing the disturbance, his express turned a little surprised.

"A word, Thorin." Ora hissed, pushing past him without invitation.

"Whatever is the matter?" Thorin asked, sounding confused and agitated as Ora paced back and forth, chewing at her thumb nail.

"Guards!" She suddenly roared, causing Thorin to deepen his frown. It wasn't like her to be so upset, but there she stood before him, fists clenched and face as red as a tomato.

"Pardon?" He took a step towards her, but Ora started to pace again.

"You have _guards_ following me!"

Thorin sighed, "It was for your protection-"

"So it's true! You do have them following me!"

Thorin frowned again, "Not all the time."

Ora stopped mid pace, "Oh, that's all right then!" She yelled sarcastically.

Thorin's temper spiked a little at her insolence, "When will you understand that I do all this for your protection, not to degrade you."

"Do you not think I can look after myself?" She hissed.

"I am sure you are more than capable of looking after yourself," He growled, clenching his own fists so tightly his knuckles cramped and his nails dug into his palms. "But you can never be too sure."

"And you didn't think to tell me?" Ora stopped her pacing once more, turning to face Thorin with a look of hurt on her face.

"I knew you would object."

Ora looked like someone had slapped her in the face. "Do I really come across as that unreasonable that you feel the need to hide things from me? That you feel the need to treat me like some sort of incapable baby?"

"That was never my intentions, I can assure you." Thorin's voice was low now, as if he was trying to be sincere and gentle, but Ora's expression remained one of hurt.

"You know my history, Thorin, you know my past. I have been looking after myself and my kin my entire life. I have battled Goblins, Orcs, and raiders. I have seen my loved ones and friends perish before my eyes." Never had Thorin seen Ora's eyes flash with rage like they were doing right now. "So, I do not appreciate someone coming along and treating me as if I am incapable to walking from my chambers to the Dining Hall. It is _insulting_."

"It was for your safety. You say you know of the world, but it only takes five minutes for you to be corned and-"

"And what?" Ora interrupted, "I can disarm a grown human man with an axe. I have disarmed an Orc with a sword, and Goblin with a mallet. I'm sure I can disarm a Dwarf with a blade."

Thorin was silent for a moment, but his glare did not falter.

"You are too valuable for me to lose." He finally said.

Ora let out a deep breath and rubbed her temples. "And treating me like a child is how you go about it? Hiding things from me and lying to me?"

"I never lied to you." Thorin responded quickly, taking another step towards her. Ora watched him with hard eyes.

"You never told me the truth."

"If you had asked I would have told you."

Ora huffed, "That's still keeping things from me, Thorin."

"But you didn't notice. Who's to say you wouldn't notice an assassin stalking you?"

"I'm sure I would clock on when they drew out a knife."

"What if it was too late?"

"It's never too late." Ora was sure of herself. Her tone was almost promising, and her stance was determined and hard.

Thorin sighed again, "I sometimes forget how you can be, and what you know. You are not like that in day to day life."

Ora relaxed her arms, but the rest of her body stayed tense. "It is part of me I do not like reliving. It reminds me of worse times."

"I promise I will not do anything else without consulting you."

Ora paused for a moment, watching Thorin's serious face. His eyes were gentle, and she knew he was being genuine.

"We argue a lot." She murmured eventually. Letting her whole body relax.

She heard Thorin snort, "You are stubborn."

Ora glared at him. "Me?!" She huffed, "You're worse than I am."

Thorin offered her a small smile. One she did not return.

"I'm going to dine with my friends tonight."

Thorin frowned, "Is everything all right?"

Ora avoided his gaze. "Yes, I've just got some personal matters to attend to." And with that she went to move passed him, but Thorin quickly grabbed her hand and pulled her back into him. He gently pressed his lips against hers in a quick, chaste kiss. One that automatically lightened her mood a bit and restored a little faith.

"You mean everything to me, Ora. Do not forget that." Thorin said, lightly pressing his forehead against hers in an act of affection.

"I know." She whispered back. She gave his hand a quick squeeze before leaving the study, feeling like she had her own, personal storm cloud over her head. She still felt really, really belittled.

.

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.

.

_Dun dun duuuuuuuuun_

_Okay, a little angsty in the next chapter I think_

_But I don't think there's going to be many chapters left of this story, maybe 10 or so? I don't know, it depends how long you guys want it to keep going for. I just don't want it to get boring and repetitive._

_ANYWAY_

_Here's the chapter I promised you lovely lot. I will probably update again Wednesday or Thursday because I'm busy Monday and Tuesday. Aaaaaaand I'm going to post a chapter for a NEW story today_

_It was originally going to be a fili story but because I already have one of those and another in the pipeline I thought I'd make it a kili story. (:_

_Anyway_

_Please let me know what you think of the story so far! And let me know how you see it progressing_

_Also, I'm debating changing the rating to M, or should I keep it T or whatever it is at the moment. As some of you know who read my other stories I'm not a stranger to naughty chapters but let me know what you think!_

_Thank you!_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_


	23. Chapter 22

Three days had passed since she'd last seen her King, and she'd avoided him at all cost. She'd even changed course when she'd seen Lady Dis lurking outside the Dining Hall, not wanting to be confronted by the Dwarrowdam.

Thankfully, Thorin had seemed to respect that Ora wanted some time to herself for a little while, and she was a little grateful for that. She needed sometime to hate him a bit, to grumble about him under her breath and let the storm ride itself out. She was still sore about what he had done (evidently), and just needed some time away from him to cool off. He'd actually insulted her by assuming her to be incapable. She'd fought tooth and nail in previous years, and although she no longer showed that character, it was never too far from the skin.

"You know, don't you, Clive?" She muttered to her pony as she stood grooming his mane late that afternoon in Erebor's stables. "You've seen it." The trusty four legged friend had been with her for nearly forty years, rather old for the common steed, but he knew all about her time on the open plains, and the Villages she and her kin had travelled to and from. He'd certainly seen better days, as he was unable to carry the loads he once did, but she loved him all the same. He was a gentle companion, and he meant a lot to her. "You understand."

As if knowing what she was talking about, Clive let out a loud huff and bobbed his head around. Ora smiled.

She was deep in her inner musings, but she didn't miss the sound of boots hitting the stone floor just outside the stall.

"I've wondered where you've been hiding."

Ora turned to meet the twinkling brown eyes of Colborn. "Good morning." She replied breezily.

Colborn's smile was barely visible through his beard, "I so believe it is heading towards late afternoon, miss." He cocked his head to the side, resting his arms on the stable door, "How long have you been here?"

Ora snorted, "Well, apparently, all day."

Colborn's smile widened a little, "You never were particularly grounded."

Ora frowned a little, turning from Clive and folding her arms over her chest. She didn't really know how to take that. She felt as though it was a little bit of a backhanded compliment.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Colborn shook his head, still smiling, "Nothing bad, I can assure you. It's actually rather… endearing."

Ora's eyebrows shot up.

She knew she could be a little spaced out and detached at the best of times, but never had her wafting thoughts been called _endearing_ before. Maybe her passiveness had been called refreshing once – which she still thought rather odd – but _endearing_?

She found herself blushing, and she quickly turned back to Clive in an attempt to hide it. "That's a first."

She heard Colborn chuckle for a moment from behind her, "Why are you here anyway, if I may ask?"

"I'm doing the washing up. What does it look like I'm doing?"

Colborn chuckled again, "I meant why have you been here _all day_? You've practically vanished."

Ora hesitated for a moment, "I didn't realise you always kept such a close track on me, Master Colborn." Her words were a mixture of surprise, banter, and concern. But she tried hard to conceal the latter as best she could. She didn't want Colborn getting any mixed messages, that was for sure. She may be angry at Thorin, but she hadn't called an end to their courtship. In fact, she'd accepted to be his Consort. Not that she'd being doing much consorting of late.

"One must always look out for their friends." He replied matter-of-factly.

Ora smiled a little, "Aye, I suppose you are right."

There was a brief silence between them, before Ora asked him something when he made no notion of going away.

"And what brings you to the stables at this hour then? Are you not on duty?"

"That I am," He replied, and Ora heard the sound of the stable door swinging open as Colborn stepped through. "Hence why I am here."

Ora turned then, giving him a questionable look.

"The king wishes to see you." He said, answering her look, "He sent a few of us guards out to look for you."

Well, it appears that the king had let up on his guards _following_ her then. Although a little relieved, she still frowned.

"Does he now?" She mused aloud, trying not to scoff. "Well, you can tell the king that I do not wish to see him."

Colborn's eyebrows shot up and for a brief moment his jaw went slack. "I beg your pardon, miss?"

"I said," Ora repeated, staring Colborn right in the eye and speaking more clearly so he did not mishear her again, "That you can tell him that I do not wish to see him at the moment. Tell him that I will find _him_ when _I_ am ready."

Colborn looked a little taken aback. Obviously, it was not every day that you heard someone refusing a king.

"But, Ora-"

"What?" Ora blinked at him, feeling annoyance that still lingered for Thorin bubbling up again. This is why she needed to be away from him, otherwise her anger will not release its hold on her feelings completely and she will not be able to stand Thorin's presence. Once she was ready to see him, then she would, and when she did she would be totally back to normal with him. But until then she was as stubborn as an Ass and still held a bit of a grudge.

Colborn opened his mouth to protest but upon noticing Ora's stern gaze he promptly shut it again. "I will tell him. But I will have to tell him where you are."

"Fine." Ora replied, "I was about to leave anyway."

"Where will you be going?"

Ora shrugged, turning back to Colborn, "Where ever I feel like it. I am a free Dwarf, aren't I?"

She knew Colborn wanted to protest. Of course she was free, but this was the king whose orders she was ignoring – or rather, rejecting point blank.

"Yes. Certainly." Colborn looked a little more worried than Ora had expected. "Good day." And then he left with surprisingly urgency.

Ora frowned at where he once stood, and suddenly guilt riddled in her stomach.

The king didn't _need_ her, did he? He was _all right_, wasn't he?

Of course he was. Thorin was a big boy now, if matters were critical she would have more than just Colborn and a handful of Mountain guards wandering about looking for her.

Ora shuddered. No, keep yourself together. Don't feel sorry for him.

But at the same time, she had _promised_ him that she would always be there for him if he needed her. She had accepted to support and care for him, no matter how wounded her pride was.

No, he was probably being his grumpy self and tired of her sulking. Maybe even concerned for her, at a push.

Feeling her annoyance towards him drain away rapidly she quickly shook all thoughts of the king from her head and quickly packed away her equipment. She didn't want to think about him, because it would only confuse her. She needed to let herself do whatever she needed to do, and _then_ she would worry about him. After all, he was the one who should be chasing her, not the other way around. He was the one who had wronged her, not the other way around.

After giving Clive a quick pat she briskly left the stable, heading back towards the main levels of Erebor. The stables were located towards the back of the Mountain, at ground level so Dwarves could come and go as they pleased, and one wouldn't have to venture outside just to tend to ones pony. So, Ora headed up the flight of stairs, being quick about it so that she didn't bump into a stormy King.

Ora headed towards her chambers to freshen up before having dinner. She smelt like pony, after all.

She tried to avoid the main Halls and stairs as best as she could, much like she'd been doing for the past three days, or whenever she wanted to get from one side of the Mountain to the other whilst going relatively unnoticed.

Upon arriving back to her chambers, she found that it was already occupied.

"I thought this was _my_ bedroom." She said casually, barely faulting in her strides across her bedroom.

"Yes, but you have the comfiest bed." Droned Ava, rolling onto her back and stretching out. Catching Uli in the face with her palm as she did so.

"Get off, you Troll!" She snapped, pushing Ava back. Hard.

"Mahal, Uli, what's crawled up your skirts and died? You've been so grumpy lately. Like an old man."

Ora snorted loudly as she fished around in her drawers for some fresh clothes. "Yes, Uli, you don't happen to secretly be an old man, do you?"

"Why yes, you've got me. I'm an old man."

Ora laughed, "I'm just going to a bath."

"We'll be here." The pair chanted as Ora left the room again.

"Honestly." Ora muttered once in the bathroom, laying her clean clothes beside the steal tub.

Once washed and feeling a lot fresher, Ora padded back into her room. As soon as she opened the door she was hit in the face with a totally different atmosphere, like someone had put a wet blanket over the ceiling.

She paused immediately, her hands stilling as she rang her wet hair into a towel. Uli and Ava were standing at opposite ends of the room, and as soon as Ava caught sight of her, she turned on her.

"Uli's pregnant!" She screeched, and Ora instantly slammed the door so Giora wouldn't hear. Her parents were probably in the Dining Hall by now, but Giora liked to linger around whenever Ora's friends were about. The sod.

"_Hush_!" Ora hissed, dropping the towel where she stood and striding towards Ava, "Keep that voice of yours down for once!"

Ava looked lost, "You _knew_?"

Ora pursed her lips, and Ava's eyes went wild. The poor woman looked as though she was about to have a total breakdown. Her hands went to her hair, then dropped to her hips, then back to her hair as she looked around frantically, obviously not knowing what to do with herself.

Whilst Ava was lost, Ora rounded on Uli, who stood towards the corner looking down at her hands clasped around her front.

"You told her."

Uli shrugged innocently, "I thought the timing was right."

"The timing is never right!" Ava suddenly yelled, earning herself another '_shush'_ and scold from Ora.

"It's not a big deal, Ava." Ora hissed, her eyes flickering to a nervous looking Uli. The way the red head was standing, with her hands tied at her front and her dress pulled taught with it, the small bump was noticeable.

"_Not a big deal_?" Ava hissed lowly, glaring at Ora. "Are you insane?"

"She is out friend." Ora reminded her, as if to try and drill some sense into that thick skull. "There is nothing we can do, so we might as well support her to our best abilities."

Ava's expression suddenly dropped, and she turned to Uli. "What are you going to do?"

"There is nothing I can do." Uli replied in a small voice.

There was a brief pause between them.

"Mahal," Ava suddenly scoffed, "To be honest, if it was going to be anyone who popped the potato, I would have thought it would be Marg."

"_Popped_ the _potato_?" Ora repeated, slightly amused.

"It's not a potato!" Uli defended, hands on her stomach possessively.

"Who's the father?" Ava asked, and instantly Ora's and Uli's faces went to stone. "Oh, no."

"Let's not get into that now." Ora mumbled, guiding Ava towards the bed so that she could sit and take it all in properly. "It doesn't matter anyway."

"Actually…" Uli began, catching Ora's and Ava's attentions immediately. She was sporting a small, shy smile. "I received a letter only this morning… _He_ wants to meet me."

Ora's eyes popped, "That is good, right?"

Uli shrugged, but the smile still played at her lips. "I cannot tell, but it can't be bad, can it?"

"Let's hope not." Ora breathed, soothing Ava's hair as the Dwarrowdam stared into the flames of the fireplace.

.

Ora was toying with the small dagger she kept in her boots at times, it was an interesting little thing and it had once belonged to Jora, so she kept it close to her.

It was a traditional Dwarven make and style, thick and sturdy, strong and durable, but also fairly and intricately designed with the beautiful engravings and symbols down the blade. The handle was made of silver, with leather around the handle for grip, and small jewels imbedded into the hilt.

She was just turning it over in her hands when there was a faint knock on the door.

Ora looked up with a frown. It was late, _very_ late. Nevertheless she scrambled from her bed, ready to fire verbal abuse at who must her drunken brother on the other side of the door.

When she opened it, however, she was only half right. There stood Giora, clad in his night robe and sporting an even wilder beard than usual, and looking uncharacteristically worried.

"What is it?" Ora asked, suddenly concerned.

"Erm, there's someone here to see you. Downstairs."

Ora frowned, pulling her shabby robe tighter around herself. Giora trudged away, and Ora wordlessly followed.

"Is it a Noble thing to always practice late night visits?" She asked once she entered the main room and spied the visitor standing by the newly lit fire and inspecting something on the mantelpiece.

Thorin turned when she spoke, his eyes flowing over her figure as she stood with folded arms at the doorway.

"May we have a moment alone?" Thorin spoke to Giora as he hovered by Ora's side. Although looking hesitant, he nodded and left. But not before glaring at Ora as he did so. She didn't know if he glared because he'd been woken up, or because he was actually concerned regarding what was going on. After all, it is not every night the king shows up in your front room requesting to be alone with your little sister.

"It appears your brother knows how to listen to the king." Thorin grumbled in his usual baritone voice. He was obviously referring to earlier when Ora had refused to meet him.

"Obviously he doesn't know." She replied flatly. Watching with somewhat narrowed eyes and Thorin fully turned to face her. It was odd, seeing him and hearing him talk after all this time. In fact, she saw far less of him than actually seeing him. He looked how he usually did, in his thick, fur lined coat and tough looking armour. Nothing about Thorin spelt 'approachable', in fact, he was anything but.

Ora watched at Thorin's sharp, chiselled jaw flexed from behind his black beard, and she saw something spark in his crystal eyes.

He gestured for her to sit. Which she did, but because she wanted to and not because he'd told her to.

He took a seat on one of the armchairs opposite her, and even though Ora stared into the flames before her – trying to be as nonchalant as possible – she could feel Thorin's penetrating gaze on her.

"Why did you decline to see me?" He asked after a long pause. His tone was flat, which was annoying, because Ora couldn't filter out what he truly felt.

She turned her head towards him, brows raised a little in surprise. "Decline?"

Thorin furrowed his brow, obviously confused.

"You say I declined? Well, that implies that it was an invitation, not an order. And invitations you are _allowed_ to decline."

She was sassing him. He knew it. She knew it. And Giora who was eavesdropping at the top of the stairs knew it.

"It is not wise to decline a king."

"And it is not wise to test a female's patience."

Thorin's jaw flexed again. "I apologised, did I not?"

"And the word '_sorry'_ just makes everything better, does it?"

Thorin's gaze turned sharp at her tone, and Ora could tell he was biting back annoyance.

"You did not wish to see me."

"You are right."

"Why?"

Thorin _always_ got what he wanted, Ora knew that and she didn't like it.

"Because I am not some object that you can call upon at your whim."

"That is not the reason."

Ora bit her tongue. She felt so small compared to Thorin, so defenceless and actually a little intimidated. It was hard not to be, his presence alone could make the biggest room feel tiny.

"You hurt me. I wanted some time alone."

Thorin visibly stiffened at her words, and he finally avert his gaze.

Ora suddenly felt weary, they were always going round in circles. She rubbed her eyes.

When she'd finished, his gaze was back on her.

"You know I did not mean—"

"I know you didn't mean to upset me, Thorin." Ora interrupted him, her voice cooler this time. "I just needed some time to get over what you did."

Thorin gaze dropped, and he seemed to let his eyes slide over her body before speaking again. This time, in a lower, deep tone. He almost sounded sincere when he spoke like that. His tone was filled with genuine care, and his eyes filled once more with warmth.

"And now?"

"And now I am still annoyed at you."

He immediately averted his gaze, and after a moment Ora spoke again. "But when you called for me I was worried something had happened. I wanted to see you too." The last part she added quietly, and when she did Thorin's eyes returned to her and her heart fluttered at the look in his eyes. Was that relief?

In fact, all she wanted to do was crawl into his lap and just stay there all night. Basking in his warmth and scent, feeling everything she knew him to be. She was tired of them butting heads.

"You exhaust me." He finally said, rubbing his temples.

Ora actually laughed a little, and she couldn't restrain herself anymore. Seeing him there, finally with her, in all his regal glory and majesty, just made her lose all her senses and made them go wild at the same time. As much as she hated it, she simply couldn't resist the Dwarf she cared so much about. She accepted him for who he was; stubborn, annoying, mostly unresponsive, and impulsive. But he was also surprisingly kind, totally loyal hearted, brave and caring. "Come here, you big ankle-biter."

Without hesitation Thorin leaned back on the chair, inviting her to come closer to him. Which she did, settling into his large lap and pulling her feet with her. She rested herself against him, her head on his shoulder, and her nose just brushing his neck. Immediately Thorin wrapped his thick arms around her, pulling her even closer to him and locking her there. Which she didn't mind at all.

Somehow, all though she was still stubborn and refused to give up that ounce of annoyance she still felt towards him, she couldn't resist the devilish temptation that was the Dwarf who pried her heart away from her.

She knew he was genuinely sorry for what he did, and she knew that he only had the guards follow her for his peace of mind and her safety. It was her pride that had been wounded, if she was anyone else, no doubt they would have found the notion of his protectiveness sweet. Honestly, Mahal knows how much ego he must have had to swallow to come here. At least he was leaning.

"You're going to drive me insane someday." She heard him muse, which brought a faint smile to her lips. He was doing the usual action of drawing faint circles into the small of her back, and that tied with the soft furs she was resting on, the warmth of the fire and the warmth and smell of Thorin, she was actually lulling off to sleep.

She hummed in agreement, finding the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest relaxing and therapeutic.

.

.

.

_Okaaaaaaay_

_Pretty boring chapter guys, I'm really sorry_

_Please let me know what you think of it! I love your reviews! (:_

_I'm away this weekend, so I won't be able to update, but hopefully I will get some new inspiration whilst I'm away. I have many ideas for this story, but I just don't know who to get from one to another! If that makes sense?_

_ANYWAY_

_Please let me know what you think! And thank you for all the support!_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_


	24. Chapter 23

When Ora woke the next morning, she found herself back in her chambers, neatly tucked up in bed. She wanted to frown at the absence of her king, but she smiled small instead when the memories of last night rolled in to comfort her. She had fallen asleep so close to him, so entangled in his spirit and presence. She'd felt so close to him, and she'd loved every moment of it.

Her heart lurched pleasantly at the recollection of drifting off into a deep slumber with her cheek pressed to his fur coat and her hand lighting resting on his chest. She could remember just as she fell asleep the rough bristles of his beard grazing her skin when he kissed her temple.

She moved to sit up, and her grin broadened when Thorin's thick, warm coat slipped off her. It was little acts of kindness like that, in between all the broody, intimidating King, that made her heart skip for him.

Feeling a new sense of purpose and commitment, she slipped out her bed and briskly prepared herself for the day, wanting to get down the King's Hall before breakfast.

She pulled on her second fanciest gown - which wasn't particularly fancy at all - seeing as Anar was still busy working on her other frocks, and headed for the door after pulling her hair up in a pretty, simple bun. She practically skipped her way down to the Hall, bouncing every so often.

It was early. _She_ was up _early_. And she didn't even feel tired. In fact, she felt excited to see Thorin, she wanted to hug him, and maybe even kiss his cheek, and she didn't even care who saw.

"Good morning, Lady Dis, do you know where King Thorin is?" Ora asked Dis who was making her own way towards the Hall, just in front of her.

Dis turned, and Ora nearly tripped when she saw the grim look on her face. Ora quickly hurried closer, concern evident in her eyes and worry casting a shadow over her round face, "What is it?" Ora asked, placing a comforting hand on Dis' shoulder.

Dis sighed deeply. Ora could see dark circles under her crystal eyes, and that the princesses usually impeccable hair was even a little more untamed than Ora's is wispy strands floating around in the cool Mountain air.

Ora could have guess what Dis was going to say simply by the expression on her usually friendly face.

"They rode out this morning." Dis replied gravely. Ora assumed 'they' included her sons. Dis sighed again before continuing, "An Orc pack was spotted no more than four leagues from here."

Ora's blood ran cold, and her face trained. "How big does it stand?"

"Maybe one hundred, maybe two, but Thorin's party is well prepared, I am sure they will be fine." She tried to reassure her, but Ora could tell she was still worried. Of course she was, her two babies were there too (although Fili and Kili were hardly babes any more), no matter how talented, trained, experienced and prepared they all were she was bound to be worried. Even Ora worried for them, in fact, she worried for everyone who had gone and she briefly wondered in Giora or even Colborn were amongst them.

Ora knew Thorin was one of the strongest, bravest, most fearless and most dangerous warriors around, but that didn't stop her from worrying. Not one bit.

Her knees went a little weak, her stomach suddenly felt heavy and sick, and her chest heaved. Nothing went through her head for a few moments upon hearing the news, her entire body just stopped for a few seconds. But when she returned back to Erebor, her adrenaline was in full swing, coursing through her veins like the rivers of molten gold in the floors below her feet.

"When was the pack spotted?" Ora fired the question and her jaw clenched.

Dis blinked a few times, stumbling over the first few words in surprise at Ora's tone, "Oh, erm, maybe two weeks ago." She rubbed the back of her neck, looking totally unravelled. "It has been monitored, and one Dwarf has already lost his life, but we assumed they were just passing through, and they would leave within days. Obviously, we were wrong."

Was that why Thorin hadn't wanted her to go to the docks? The _true_ reason? Ora didn't know what to think. She knew she should have been annoyed that Thorin had hidden more information from her, but then again, affairs of security were none of her business and he _was_ just trying to protect her.

"Where are they?"

"They marched South East," Dis sighed, "Before first light."

So they marched, Ora thought, eyes casting downwards at she furrowed her brow. "Thank you." She muttered, before promptly turning on her heel and marching back off towards her quarters.

"Where are you going?" Lady Dis called, suddenly sounding a little panicked.

Ora felt a little annoyed towards Thorin again, but not necessarily at him, mainly at his pride and arrogance. "To strangle your brother before the Orcs do." She replied, twirling around and grinning broadly at Dis.

Dis paled, imagining how furious Thorin would be if he knew Ora was coming after him - or _for_ him, either worked.

"But, Ora!" Dis chased after Ora as she strode on, already mentally preparing for her excursion, planning what she needed and recruiting her knowledge of the outdoors in her head, refreshing herself. Ora didn't falter when she heard Lady Dis hurry after her, "You can't!"

It was a good thing that it was still early, and that there were not many Dwarves lingering about he place, but those who were still looked on with curiosity and surprise as the princess chanced after a middle classed Dwarrowdam.

"Why not?" Ora asked, frowning when she lost her train of thought.

"Because Thorin will not be impressed if you leave the safety of the Mountain, not for him anyway."

"What do you mean 'not for him'?"

"He'd never forgive himself or me if you were to suffer even a scrape." Dis pulled Ora to a halt by her shoulders, staring down at her with pleading eyes. "I have never seen him care for someone so much beyond his kin. He loves you deeply, you must stay safe."

Ora forgot to breathe.

"Well then I must go." She said sternly, struggled out of Dis' iron grip and turning away.

"Please don't, Ora! Why must you be so adamant?"

Ora continued walking, without looking around she replied, "Because I love him too."

.

The cold, winter air cut through Ora like blades made of ice. Slicing at her cheek bones, hacking at her cracking lips and scoring at her sensitive eyes.

But she didn't stop. She knew by know that if there was a battle between the Dwarves and the Orc's it would be in full swing by now. It would have taken Thorin's army the best part of five hours to march to the Orcs, and that was if the Orcs weren't marching towards them. It was now approaching noon, she Ora knew they would have arrived by now.

Thus far, she hadn't seen any sign of battle, but she had found hints of Dwarves passing through in great numbers, so she knew she was on the right track.

At the back of her mind, she hoped her father wouldn't notice the absence of his pony - Stampy. Clive was just too old to take this far at such a speed, something Stampy seemed to have no issues doing.

She'd already been riding for what felt like hours, but she knew it must have been only two. She had stamina and endurance still in her muscles and bones, but it had been many a month since she'd ridden like this, and even more years had passed since she'd had to tackle this sort of battle, in fact, if she was correct in guessing, she'd actually never had to fight one on this sort of scale.

She was actually thankful that Ava had persuaded her to teach her how to fight, if not Ora would probably be a lot rustier with a weapon than she already was.

When she'd left Dis standing in one of the Halls, Ora had gone straight to her room and changed. It had been weird putting on trousers and a tunic, and weirder still when she thought about how the last time she wore those clothes was in The Wild - darker days.

The trousers were a typical dark brown, a little worn in places, and patched in others. Her plain tunic was a dark fawn colour, tucked into her trousers and held there by her thick leather belt. Her sword (another strange, almost alien item that she'd pulled from the back of her wardrobe) was tied to it, with a plain dark leather sheath. The sword itself used to be Jora's; thick blade and very typically Dwarven with sharp edges and geometric patterns across the hilt and down the blade. It matched with her dagger that was tucked into her thick brown boots. She also had two throwing axes on the other hip, and her axe slung over her back.

Ora loved her axe. It was a gift from her brothers (when her mother had seen, she'd gone ballistic) for her fortieth birthday. It was had a double blade on each side of the top, so no matter which way she swung it she was always hit her target, and each silver blade was etched with her family runes, thread with tendrils of gold.

The handle was of thick, sturdy wood, reinforced with iron, steel, and copper, all intricately entwined and decorated in complicated patterns that no matter how many times she tried she couldn't follow from the beginning to the end.

Ora continued to follow the path Thorin and his army had left. Their thick footprints left heavy indents in the snow, indents that Stampy quickly cantered over, sending snow flying, some of which landed on her. Although she wore one of her old coats, that didn't stop the snow melting and soaking Ora through to her legs, freezing her hands and face and cracking the skin.

It was then that threw the eerie silence, bar Stampy's hooves hitting and compressing the snow and his heated breath, that Ora heard the first cry of a raging battle.

"Come on, boy..." Ora muttered, giving the pony a squeeze with her legs. Stampy huffed, put just managed to pick up the pace.

The cries and yells grew louder, and Ora changed her direction to veer towards the more rocky terrain, hopefully where she could hide Stampy and survey the situation behind a boulder or mound of rubble.

"Stay here." She whispered to the pony, lightly tying his rein on a loose rock. Just in case he got spooked he would be able to flee, she didn't want to tie him up tightly and have him trapped if something came after him.

Ora then sneaked around the rock, peering down below her. The battle was a little way below her, as she was on a ledge. But despite the cold weather, sweaty steam was ascending from the carnage where the hot bodies of Dwarves and Orcs fought furiously against each other.

Firstly, she spotted Dwalin, as he was pretty obvious to spot as he swung his mallet around and around, quite literally sending any Orc he hit flying.

Her eyes then searched for Fili and Kili, and she found the blonde first. His hair was practically glowing against the dark colours of blood, leather, and steel, and the sparse patches of white snow made it shine brightly.

An arrow shot over Fili's shoulder and hit an Orc square in the chest that had been sneaking up on him, and Ora quickly followed the direction the arrow came from and she let out a sigh of relief when she spotted Kili - along with a few other arches - standing on some of the surrounding rocks, shooting down into the chaos.

Ora frowned, unable to spot Thorin - or Giora. Giving her surroundings a quick scan, she wasted no time in darting out from around the rock and sliding down the slope a few metres and into a branchy bush. It was leafless, but her brown attire would blend her sufficiently enough if her direction was to be glanced in.

She took another look through the twigs and branches at the battle. Trying to avoid any fallen bodies with her gaze. Still, she found no sign of her brother or her king. She wasn't even sure if Giora was amongst them, for he made no mention it in the previous days. But, then again, no one had, and Ora briefly wondered if he would have been sworn to secrecy, but a sharp cry crashed her train of thoughts.

A young Dwarf, probably no older than the princes, had fallen on one of the rocks below her. His sword went scattering away and when he reached for it, a thick, leathery boot cut him short by stomping relentlessly on his forearm.

He cried out again, and Ora tensed, watching as the Dwarf struggled against the Orc's heavy boot.

She had to do something. Slowly, she reached to her waist and grabbed at one of her throwing axes, her eyes widened as the Orc drew back his mucky sword for the finale blow. For some reason, Ora had actually forgotten how to breathe and before she had time to even think about what to do next her instincts had taken over. In one, swift movement, Ora pulled her axe, sprung up from her crouching hiding spot and barely even aimed as she swung here arm back and threw the small axe.

It went flying through the air with a whizzing sound, before embedding itself in the Orc's disfigured skull. She grimaced at the creature's appearance. That was certainly a face she hadn't missed.

The young Dwarf on the ground only just rolled over in time before the Orc collapsed forward, and he quickly scrambled up, his eyes searching for her.

Ora was already on the move, however, and she rushed forward, practically sliding down the distance between the Orc's fallen body and her hiding spot and without hesitation she wrenched the axe from the creatures skull.

She then straightened up, "Is Giora amongst you?" She fired at the wide eyed looking Dwarf.

Still looking beyond startled he just choked out, "I-I wouldn't know. We j-just got called e-early this morn. I didn't see-"

Ora didn't wait around to hear anymore ramblings before she was sliding down more of the rocky slope to the next boulder, gripping her throwing axe tightly in one hand and her other twitching for the axe still clung over her back.

Once safely behind the boulder, she checked to make sure her surroundings were clear before sparing another peak towards the battle. Again, she saw no sign of Giora and his wild mass of dirty blonde hair. Maybe he wasn't there after all…

Whilst searching the Dwarves, her eyes found Thorin, swinging his sword wildly just off centre to the battle. Ora waited with baited breath, almost mercerized by the way he was yielding his sword.

His coat was long gone, his armour was even more impressive than before, and a thin layer of sweat was visible on his exposed skin. His hair stuck to him in wet threads, but fanned out restlessly whenever he moved. His hands and skin up to his elbow was covered in muck, blood and grime, and patches of such were also to be found throughout the rest of his body. Even his face that was twisted into a ferocious look hadn't been spared of dirt.

However, despite the cuts, and bruises, he was relatively intact. But, it looked like he was number one target amongst the Orcs.

The battle wasn't a big one, and Dis had been wrong when she'd said the creatures were only two hundred or so strong – there was at least double that. Thorin was being attacked from all sides, even arrows that he was barely missing were being fired at him.

Ora fumed. She was a Dwarf, after all, protectiveness was in her blood, and hatred for Orc's were bred into her very bones. But love for her king was earned, and she'd be damned if she was going to sit back and lose that.

She decided to take a more stealthy approached, however, and she began to skirt further around the edge of the battle, staying higher up so she never lost sight of her king. Ora moved from rock to scrub, to rubble mound to dirt pile to scale around the core of the fighting, slowly but surely making her way around to the right, and to her king.

She wasn't more than fifty metres away from him, and she was watching intently at him clashing swords with a particularly large, nasty looking Orc that somehow knew how to be pretty good with a sword, when another one of those foul creatures advanced on Thorin from behind. And he hadn't seen. And neither had anyone else. Thorin had his back to her, and the Orc was in clear range.

Ora acted fast, leaping out from behind a large bush and running straight towards the slimy looking Orc, reaching around and grabbing her axe as she did so.

She whistled sharply, detaching the Orc's attention from Thorin and making it swing around to her, just as she twisted and swung her axe with full force, using the thick mud to give her more momentum before she struck the Orc, slicing it's head clean off before it had even fully turned its body.

When it body fell, she found Thorin standing behind it, staring at her with a poised sword. The Orc he'd just been fighting with lay face down in the mud behind him.

For a moment, Ora thought Thorin was going to drop his sword he looked so surprised, but then his face quickly changed to sheer rage.

"What are you doing here?" He roared at her over the chaos of the battle.

Ora spotted an Orc turn towards him over his shoulder, and she was quick to lob one of the throwing axes, hitting it right in the head. It fell motionless on the ground. Thorin stared at the recently deceased Orc, then back to her.

"Thought you could use some help." She grinned, before sensing an Orc behind her. She swung her axe once freely in her right hand, before using that force to spin her around and slice the looming Orc.

She then heard the grunt of Thorin clash swords with another beast, before it cried out.

"So you took it upon yourself to simply _leave_ the safety of the Mountain and come find us?" She heard him his right behind her. He had his back to her back, only a few inches apart as they covered each other on both sides.

"Yes, I did." Ora snorted the last word when her axe struck another Orc. She swung it at her side, loosening her wrist. It felt strange after all this time to use such a weapon, not a bad strange. Just _strange_. "You're welcome by the way, for having your back just then."

Ora heard the sound of more sword slicing flesh before Thorin spoke again. "I had it under control."

"Oh, really?" Ora replied, trying to hide her grin. But it quickly vanished on its own when she kicked a small Orc in the face, sending it toppling to its knees before she decapitated it. "Could have fooled me."

She heard Thorin growl loudly, and before she knew it she was being pushed into another position. Apparently, they were changing sides.

"You have no right to come here, Ora! I command that you go back to Erebor right now."

Ora rolled her eyes, thumbing at another Orc as she did so as if all this was just a walk in the park. It was strange how everything was just flooding back to her. In fact, in a weird, twisted way, she sort of missed the rush this all gave her.

"Oh, what, and miss all the fun?" Off went another Orc's head. "You have got to be kidding me."

She was pushed into another position without her consent.

"If you get yourself hurt, I will kill you." Thorin growled, and Ora grinned.

.

"Hold still – Kili! I said still!"

Ora was struggling with the youngest prince. He had a large gash over his thigh. It wasn't that deep, but it was large and needed instant medical attention. It was bleeding profusely and was running the risk of infection. Luckily, Ora had a small jar of salve that she'd packed into the small bag that she'd left on Stampy, and was momentarily trying to get the Durin prince to cease his wiggling so she could apply the mixture.

"I'm fine!" Kili almost whined, trying to stagger up once more and head towards Fili who was talking to the young solider Ora had saved from the Orc.

"Sit back down, mister!" Ora barked, and immediately Kili obeyed, large brown eyes staring at her like a startled puppy. "You've battled Dragons and Goblins and Orcs, I'm sure a little bit of salve won't kill you."

Kili scowled, but didn't protest any more.

There were in fact healers amongst the Dwarves, but part of the reason Ora had volunteered herself to help with the wounded was to prolong the heated, menacing glare of a certain Dwarven King.

"Uncle won't stop glaring at you." Kili muttered after a few minutes. "It's actually beginning to scare _me_."

"I know." Ora mumbled, scratching the back of her neck where she could feel the burning of the crystal eyes, "I can feel the stinging."

Kili snorted, and hopped down off the low rock when he recognised Ora to be finished with him.

"Thank you," He said to her sincerely. Then he leaned in just so Ora could hear and added, "Don't take what uncle says to heart, you were a massive help today." He then leant back, offered her a broad grin and hobbled off to his brother.

Ora watched after him, feeling the presence of Thorin and his rage approaching.

"A word." His deep rumbling voice ordered.

Ora turned and promptly strode past him, away from the body of the soldiers. The battle had long ended, and the Dwarves were just preparing their wounded for the journey home. Of course, they had won, but they had suffered loses. Not great loses, but loses all the same. Fathers, husbands and sons.

Ora turned again, stopping when she thought they were a sufficient enough distance away from the rest of the group. Unless Thorin decided to start roaring, of course, but even if they were back at the Mountain leagues away they'd still be able to hear him do that.

"What were you thinking?" Thorin growled, his voice low. His eyes trailed up and down her body, lingering and the large gash on her upper arm, the cut over her temple, and her slowly swelling left eye. He himself sported the usual battle wounds, nothing serious, just scratches, scrapes and bruises.

Ora wanted to raise her brow, but it hurt. She knew Thorin would be furious at her, but she was prepared.

"I wanted to help." She replied simply, trying to keep her voice cool.

"_Help_?" Thorin grimaced. "You could have gotten yourself hurt, or worse, _killed_."

"But I haven't and I am fine."

"But what if you weren't."

"But I _am_."

Thorin glowered at her, his crystal eyes filled with more fury that Ora could have ever imagined. But she wasn't fazed. She knew there would have been a few more deaths if she hadn't been around. That was all he needed to have peace of mind.

"You do _never_ do this thing again, do you understand me?"

Ora frowned, "No."

"_No_?" Thorin repeated in a hiss, taking a step towards her and looming down. His face inches apart from her now.

"I said 'no', Thorin. If I want to fight with my king then nothing will stop me. You could be dead if it wasn't for me." Ora stepped up to his level, returning his clear dead in the eye.

"My death is insignificant. You will not risk your well fair again, is that clear?"

"No!" Ora snapped right in his face, "Your death is _not_ insignificant. Did an Orc strike you on the head and loosen your brain? You are our _King_, Thorin! I will give my life before I see yours threatened." Ora didn't know if she was saying that as it was her duty to protect her king, or as her duty to protect the one she loved. Because she did love him, with every fibre of her being she loved every haughty, stubborn inch of him.

Thorin lowered his voice, "Fili is my heir. He will be King if something were to happen to me, but—"

"You are not _replaceable_, Thorin." Ora's eyes searched his, and she grabbed his tightly closed fits that hung at his sides. "No to me. Never to me. Fili will one day be a marvellous king, I am sure. But not yet." She gave his still clenched fists a tight squeeze before raising her hands to cup either side of his bloodied face. She knew he was glaring daggers at her, but she could plainly see the conflict within his eyes. He was furious at her still, but there was something else in there too…

"I will not see you perish." She continued, letting her thumbs slide over his cheek bones. "I _cannot_ see you perish. I will gladly thrown myself in front of an army for you."

"Don't say that. Your place is not on the battle field."

Ora's heart heaved at the fact he'd avoided her endearments, but seeing the anger that still burned brightly in his eyes she quickly shook it off.

"I promised to look after you, Thorin."

"And how can you look after me if you are dead? Do not be foolish again, Ora. As your King I demand you obey that."

Ora wanted to scream, stomp around and flail her arms up like a child. But she remained cool looking, still staring into the angry face of Thorin Oakenshield. Anyone else would be terrified or intimidated by the menacing look, but not Ora. She saw it as a challenge to unwind her King. He was like trying to prize open a walnut.

She shook her head. "I cannot promise you anything, Thorin."

"I'm not asking you for a promise." He growled, leaning forward. "I am promising _you_ that if you disobey _me_ you will be punished."

Ora rose up to his level, standing on the tips of her toes as she did so to reply lowly, "How can you punish me if you are dead? I will fight with my dying breath for you."

Thorin glared hard at her, "I never want you to ever live up to those words."

"Is this all because you're afraid?" She asked him, "Are you scared I will die? Thorin, the world will continue long after me."

"I can't." Was his instant gruff reply, but his glare and stony expression did not falter.

"But you are King, Thorin. As much as you deny it your life is far more valuable than mine. I, and every Dwarf here will lay down their lives for you."

"I never wish for you to do that. I never wish for you to put yourself in such a situation. You should never have come here today, Ora, whether I may have died or not you should never have come. It is not your place amongst us." His expression was still so cold, and Ora felt her heart shrivelling up.

"And where is my place?" She whispered, her voice gone. "If not beside my king?"

Thorin didn't respond for a long moment, so Ora decided to just spit it out. She added, "If not beside the one I _love_?"

Thorin's blank expression didn't change, but at the same time Ora had never seen so much emotion flood his features.

But, much to Ora's horror, he said nothing, and all he did was give her body another sweep of his gaze before turning and striding off back towards the body of soldiers.

Ora stared after him, standing like a limp ferret and blinking at what had just happened. She recited their argument a few times in her head in seconds.

_Nope_, she still didn't understand what had happened. He was beyond furious at her, that was obvious. But why? Because she had joined him to protect him? Sure, it was foolish of her, but she was fine. She was relatively unhurt and so was he. Why was he so cold with her? _She was okay_.

And then it dawned on her.

Had her presence there she scared him?

She looked back up at Thorin to catch him watching her. Anger still sparked in his eyes, but his brows were knitted in concern.

He'd feared for her life, and the idea of him losing her had scared him into fury.

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_Okaaaaaaaay_

_Toot toot toot_

_Another chapter for you, I was actually planning to post this yesterday but my friend and I made a roast dinner instead hehehe_

_Anyway_

_Let me know what you think of this chapter, as I'm sure some of you will think it was foolish of Ora to chance after him! But, before you judge her, wouldn't you do anything to protect the one you love?_

_And I couldn't really describe how I wanted Thorin to feel… but I will elaborate more in the next chapter because I am sure it is confusing_

_Anyway_

_Thank you so much to all those who have reviewed, your comments mean the world to me!_

_Please keep the comments coming, they give me motivation to write!_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_


	25. Chapter 24

Ava just stared dumbly at Ora once she'd finished speaking, and once the blonde realised her friend had no words to say to her, she slowly turned back to her baking.

That was right. She was back in the bakery.

She hadn't seen or heard from Thorin for over a week, and she assumed he was still angry with her. So, as per usual, she refused to face her demons and chose to hide from them instead. She had anticipated his reaction, of course, but maybe not to _this_ scale. But, she had no guilt. If she hadn't been at that battle a handful more Dwarves at _least_ would have lost their lives. A handful doesn't sound like a lot, but she had stopped their families hurting like she had. And that was good enough for her.

A life is a life, after all. And she'd rather be there to save it, than not be there at all and let them die.

How could Thorin still be angry with her though? He must have seen her reasons for joining them by now, surely? She had helped them, and she had been beneficial.

So _why_ was Thorin so angry with her? Surely, he should be at least impressed, or thankful, or glad, or happy that she helped his men.

"Well, can you blame him?"

Ava's voice snapped Ora back to Erebor sharply, and she blinked a few times at her friend. Well, she wasn't excepting that.

"Pardon?" Ora asked, still blinking.

Ava rolled her eyes and took another bite of honey bun before continuing, mouth full. "You probably scared him half to death when you popped up out of nowhere. Poor sod, you must have ruined his concentration."

Ora stuttered for a moment before finally replying, "What do you mean?"

"He was probably trying to keep one eye on you, to make sure you were safe, and not concentrating fully on his own dangers!"

Ora stared at her friend for a long moment. She was right. She was totally right.

"Oh, Mahal…" Ora groaned rubbing her temples and getting flour on her face.

"Oh, Mahal indeed!"

"But he could have died if I wasn't there."

"_Could_ have. He probably doesn't care about his own life, Ora, if he loves you then he would only care about yours."

That's when Ora's chested heaved for the first time in over a week. "But I don't know if he does."

Ava shook her head, "You are a fool, Ora."

"He has a funny way of showing it." She muttered.

"This is Thorin Oakenshield, right? The moodiest, broodiest, grumpiest king Erebor has ever seen. Mahal! That the whole of Middle-Earth has ever seen! He probably doesn't know what to do with you, Ora."

Ora growled, and decided to change the subject. "Have you heard from Uli?"

Ava shook her head, "Nope. I do not think she is feeling all that well."

Ora frowned, "We'll bring her some cakes later and see what is wrong."

Ava nodded, and she looked like she wanted to say more when the feel of someone else's presence filled the bakery.

Both girls turned to find Colborn hovering by the door. He grinned at them.

"Well, something smells wonderful." He exclaimed, nodding politely at each them in turn.

"Good afternoon, Master Colborn," Ora began slowly, almost cautiously, "What brings you here?"

"I have been sent to collect you, Miss," He replied and Ora sighed. She'd figured as much.

"Oh, I can't imagine by who." She muttered sarcastically, taking a step towards Colborn. "Go on then, lead the way." She then turned to Ava, "I'm sorry, I'll see you in a bit. Would you mind taking those buns out the oven in fifteen minutes?"

Ava nodded and smiled encouragingly, "Of course," Then she whispered, "Good luck!"

Ora snorted, thinking about how much she needed the luck if she was going to have a little 'chat' with the king.

When she and Colborn left the bakery, after Ora had waved a small goodbye to her confused looking grandmother, the blonde turned to the guard with a not so impressed look on her face.

"Was he in a good mood or a bad mood?" She asked, cutting to the chase.

Colborn furrowed his brow in confusion and glanced at her, staying by her side as they ascended the first set of stairs in the market.

Ora answered his questioning look, "The king, when he asked to speak with me. What sort of mood was he in?"

Colborn's frown of confusion turned to one of insecurity. "Actually," He lowered his voice, "He's been in a foul mood since he returned from battle. I'm not sure why though."

Ora snorted, turning back to face forward as they turned into a corridor and away from the market, "Oh," She muttered, "I can only imagine."

.

A foul mood was an understatement.

When Colborn left Ora outside the Kings study and she knocked on the door, the voice that demanded her to come in was so intimidating and virile it actually made her quiver a bit.

Hesitantly, Ora poked her head around the door. "Good afternoon." She offered, trying to look as sweet and innocent as possible in front of those piercing grey eyes. They looked like small orbs of sheer storminess as the king gazed upon her, glaring at her from behind his heavy, oak desk.

"You're letting in a draft." He snapped.

Was that his way of telling her to come in?

Slowly, she slid into the room, feeling a little more tolerable than before now Ava had enlightened her a little with her opinion on the matter. In fact, Ava was probably right. This _was_ Thorin Oakenshield, and he could be very confusing with his emotions.

"How are you?" Ora asked, her gaze shifting over his face to find nothing but a lone scratch across his brow, but it looked like it was healing fast. Her own injuries still lingered faintly. The swelling in her eye had most disappeared, leaving her with a nasty looking yellow-purple bruise. The gash on her arm still remanded, but that too was healing. All her other injuries were just fading pink marks by now.

"Fine."

Why did he call her here if he was only going to snap and be blunt with her?

Ora fought hard to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. "You wished to see me?"

Thorin stood abruptly, nearly making her jump, and suddenly Ora grew nervous. Her king's face was a hard scowl, his eyes were cold and hard and his posture was rigid with tension.

"I did." He replied, slowly moving from around his desk. "I haven't seen you." He stopped a meter or two away from her, and folded his thick arms across his equally thick chest.

"I didn't think you wanted to see me." She replied. She wanted to look away from those eyes of his, but she knew she couldn't.

"I was angry with you." He growled, "But I wanted you by my side."

Ora's heart rate accelerated, "You gave me mixed signals regarding what you wanted, Thorin. It was hard to decipher what you meant when you were yelling at me."

Thorin's jaw tensed. "I had every right to be angry with you."

"No, no you didn't, Thorin." Ora took a step towards him and jabbed her finger into his chest. Ignoring his hard armour and continuing to make a point. "If I wasn't there more Dwarves would have died, albeit only a few, but a life is a life. Those were sons, fathers, brothers out there, and I'll be damned if I don't spare those families the pain I suffered." She poked his hard chest one last time. "I have a duty to my kingdom, and a duty to my king, Thorin Oakenshield."

"You could have been killed." He growled, "Do you not understand how serious that is? You are a woman, and it is not your place to be fighting—"

Ora cut him off, suddenly furious, "Not my place?!" She hissed, "It was my place when Smaug burnt down our home so my kin had to flee with nothing more than the clothes on their backs! It was my place when our camps were raided, and it was my place when the villages we worked in were under attack! When did it stop being my place to help others? When I returned safe? When I earned a comfy bed and a warm hearth? Tell me, Thorin, do you expect me to just sit there doing nothing while my king and his men fight for my luxuries!"

Thorin's jaw gave tense a whole new meaning.

"I was not hurt, or killed," She continued when she found Thorin would give her no comment, "I know I _could_ have been, but so could have you. So could have those men that fought beside you. They follow you, Thorin, they respect you as their leader and their king in very much the same way I do! So, no, you shouldn't have been angry with me!" Ora was yelling my now, and her throat stung when she glared up at those raging eyes of her king.

"Of course I was angry!" Thorin growled.

"But _why_?" Ora countered back, struggling to keep her own voice down.

Thorin stomped towards her, closing the distance between them. "Because you scared me."

Ora nearly keeled over, but her own anger kept her standing. She glared at him with an expression like he'd just eaten food off the floor. "What?!"

She'd _scared_ him? He's stared a Dragon right in the eye and _she_ had scared _him_?

Thorin continued to glare at her, crystal eyes menacing and dancing with fury.

"You could have died!"

"But I didn't! Obviously, I am fine!" She flew her hand around, gesturing to him that she was indeed all intact.

Thorin's chest heaved. "I never want you to do that again."

"I know you don't, and I have told you I cannot promise you that!"

Thorin looked like he wanted to roar, but he stuck with a snarl. "I do not want you getting hurt."

"And I don't want you getting hurt either, Thorin!" Ora stepped towards him. They were now nearly chest to chest, but both of them had their arms folded tightly across their chest. "So, whether you like it or not I will be by your side. I will be by your side guiding and protecting you, you foolish little ankle-biter!"

Thorin growled, "I will not have the one I love risking her life for me."

"Well, then you'll just have to—Wait, _what_?" Ora had been yelling, but just like someone had blown out a candle her anger evaporated.

Thorin stared at her, rage still blazing and unfaltering from what he'd just said. Like he'd said nothing. Like it was just another day arguing with his consort.

"You love me?"

"_That_ is what you got from that sentence?" Thorin fumed through clenched teeth.

But Ora was long gone, well, her anger and her brain were. She clasped her hands together over her heart and gazed at him, her eyes suddenly filled with affection.

"Don't look at me like that." Thorin snapped.

Ora squealed and then cooed, which only made Thorin growl and take a step back when Ora made one toward him.

"You love me." She grinned brightly.

"Don't change the subject."

"But _you_ love _me_." And just like that, Ora flew the rest of the distance between them, wrapping her arms around Thorin's neck and hanging onto him with her feet in the air behind her.

Thorin had to grab her around the waist for support. She heard him sigh loudly, and after a minute he pulled her tighter to him.

"Please don't scare me like that again."

"Don't ruin the moment, Thorin."

"I mean it, Ora." He growled in her ear. "I am still furious at you for being so foolish."

Ora just sighed contently, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck and kissing the skin lightly there. Thorin held onto her tighter still, and she grinned through his thick mane of raven coloured hair.

She then pulled back slightly, raising her hands to cup either side of this bristly face. She was still grinning widely, and Thorin was still scowling deeply.

"Stop being so grumpy." She murmured, lightly grazing her lips against his teasingly.

Thorin didn't make an audible response, instead he growled again, but this time in a totally different way and with a totally different meaning than before. He tilted his head forward to press his lips to hers, but Ora quickly dodged him with a little giggle.

Thorin squeezed her, and tried to maneuverer her to kiss him, but Ora had better ideas, and proceeded to kiss every inch of his wonderful face except from his lips. The kisses were chaste, light, affectionate and small, and they were pure, sweet torture to Thorin and he growled again, span Ora around and planted her not-so-carefully on the desk behind them. He then tangled one hand in the back of her head, threading his fingers through her hair and raising her face to meet his. The other he rested on her thigh, towards her knee.

His lips finally captured hers, and Ora moaned when her king wasted no time in claiming her mouth with his own, sliding his tongue over hers and battling for dominance. He was trying to prove a point, Ora knew this, of course, and for the sake of her own lust she let him believe he had her completely.

Of course, Thorin wore the trousers, but Ora controlled the fastenings.

Not even thirty seconds ago her king had been raging, but now he was desperate for her. Although he would never admit it, she knew he was.

One of Ora's hands slid around Thorin's waist, under his coat and pulling him closer to her so he stood between her dress covered legs. Her other hand was feeling a little more cheeky, and slid up his chest, gently massaging up and down. Thorin growled into her mouth at her touch, and kissed her harder, with more urgency so his teeth hit against hers once or twice.

Not that she cared. Not that she cared at all.

Then, before she knew it, it was all over. Thorin broke away, leaning down and burying his face into her neck with a groan.

Ora grinned broadly. Her lips hurt a little, and her tongue ached, but she felt _amazing_.

"You will be my downfall, Ora." She heard her king mumbled into her hair that fell over her shoulders.

Ora bit her lip, "You make it sound like a bad thing."

Thorin pulled away then, looking down at her with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes and a soft smile playing at his lips. He looked a little bit dishevelled, a little bit unravelled, and Ora loved the idea that she made him like that.

His lips were a little swollen from behind his beard, and his eyelids looked heavy. In fact, his expression was probably the calmest she'd ever seen it. It was like he'd forgotten all his woes in those few moments between them. Like it was just her and him that mattered.

And Ora was totally fine with that.

Thorin reached forward and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Ora's hands travelled up his front slowly, and the whole time the pair of them did not break eye contact. When her hands reached his shoulders, she used the support to slide of his desk. Her legs were a little like putty, but with Thorin built like a mountain she felt to guilt to use him as support. Her fingers then trailed up to his neck, wrapping around the back and lightly pressing into the muscles that lay there.

Her eyes widened a little, startled. "Oh, Mahal, you're so tense!" She exclaimed, giving the muscles a light squeeze and a gentle kneed.

Immediately Thorin responded to her touch, and his head dropped forward a little, and his shoulders loosened. But when he said nothing, Ora took this as a sign to continue and she didn't stop her fingers from moving over the small patch of skin she could touch.

When Thorin's eyelids began to droop, Ora smiled up at him. "You need a good massage, my king." She hadn't meant any implications by her words, she was simply stating a fact. His tight muscles must be causing him grief, if not pain. "Maybe you should get someone to—"

Thorin cut her off, "Maybe you could help me." He smirked.

Instantly, Ora's eyes popped, and her fingers stopped moving. "M-me?" She spluttered, blinking up at him as heat rose in her cheeks from his boldness.

"Maybe someday." He replied, his smirk easing into a sincere smile. But that did nothing for the redness of Ora's face, and it was too late for her to hide it.

She spluttered nonsense for a few moments, but stopped when Thorin began to chuckle loudly. His chest vibrating and the deep rumble of his voice filling the room. Was he _teasing_ her?

When he finally stopped, Ora looked up at him with a timid expression. A question was burning on her tongue, and she was dying to let it out.

Thorin watched her expectantly, recognising the look to be her one of contemplation.

"Thorin…" She began, and when she felt him nod for her to continue she took in a deep breath. Thorin pulled her closer to him, and began to draw soft circles on her lower back. This action instantly soother her, and she found herself saying lazily, "Please… Please can we stop arguing?"

Thorin peered down at her, still smiling softly, but he didn't say anything as Ora looked for words to continue.

"I want to see you more than I do… And I want to stop this constant bickering. I feel as though, sometimes, there are more hard times between us than good."

"Nothing will take you away from me, miz kidhuz, not now I have you." Thorin reached up and ran a thick, rough thumb over the soft skin of her cheek bone, just under her wounded eye.

Ora smiled up at him, "You're not the most romantic of creatures, but you sure do know how to make me happy." And then she quickly added, "And furious, at the same time."

Thorin chuckled again, but this time a lot lower. It was nice, seeing him smile like that, he had the sort of smile that reached his eyes and made them twinkle. His gaze was no longer engulfed with grey storm clouds, but now shone like a crystal clear lake.

She knew Thorin's heart was hard and defensive. He would not have survived everything he'd been through if he wore it on his sleeve. It was weathered from his hardships, tormented by his memories. But Ora knew he'd given it to her. Thorin Oakenshield had given her his heart. Every last broken, burnt fragment of it.

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_Okayyyyy, sort of a short, filler chapter. But I needed a bridge to get me from the last chapter to the next one (:_

_And also the last chapter was super duper long, so hey ho!_

_Anyway, thank you so much for all your lovely comments! I love your reviews, so please keep them coming! Your thoughts on my story mean the world to me and I do read all of them!_

_A few of you have pointed out my spelling and grammar mistakes, and thank you! I know there are some, and I do proof read my work, but I usually finish late and night so I'm tired and skip words and stuff. But I will get round to correcting them at SOME point! (:_

_KarstOfProx__ – I'm the same! I love AU's set after the BOFA! Hence why I actually started writing this one! If I want to read something, and I cannot find it, I tend to just write it myself (I actually have a Fili story set after the BOFA saved on my laptop too hehe) so if anyone could tell me some, KarstOfProx and I would greatly appreciate it! And thank you for your lovely review! x_

_Luna – Thank you for your constructive criticism, I take it all on board! Although, I do struggle with grammar and spelling because I am dyslexic, but I do try to weed out my mistakes as best I can when I proof read, but when I'm tired a few slip through the cracks! Whoopsie! Also, the name 'Colborn' is actually just a Norse name I found. Do you not think it matches? I struggle real hard on names, because I'm always changing my mind! (: Thank you for your lovely review though! X_

_Follow me on tumbrl! BrightPinkPineapple_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_


	26. Chapter 25

It was one week until Dis' birthday dinner, and it was not the etiquette lessons Ora was having issues with.

"What should I get your sister for her birthday?" Ora asked loudly, barging into Thorin's private office without knocking or even fully knowing if he was there or not. He was, of course, because he wasn't anywhere else.

Thorin looked up from his papers upon hearing the door swing open, and he raised his eyebrows a little at the blonde Dwarrowdam as she stood, a little red faced, and looking utterly unimpressed with her hands on her hips and a deep scowl on her round face.

"Good afternoon to you too." He said coolly, putting down the parchment he was reading and leaning back in his chair.

Ora didn't find him amusing. Not one bit.

"Very funny, but I'm not in the mood. I've literally been running up and down this Mountain looking for you." Her scowl deepened.

"And yet I am always here on a Thursday afternoon."

Immediately, Ora's sour face vanished. "It's Thursday? Oh, Mahal, I thought it was Wednesday." She muttered. "Anyway, it doesn't matter," She continued, her tone back to its usual, breezy tune, "What do I get a princess, who has everything already, for her birthday?" Ora moved towards Thorin and came around his desk, perching on it in front of him.

Thorin took in a deep breath as he thought, absently letting his hand take position on her knee. Immediately that he did so, a jolt of warmth shot through Ora. It was little things like that that she loved, little signs of affection that he didn't even know he was doing.

"She loves your baking." He finally said. "That is something she does not have."

Ora blinked at him, and then frowned in confusion, "I do not follow…"

"You cannot get her anything material, obviously, so what about something more… sentimental?"

Ora thought for a moment, watching Thorin's face for any signs of anymore clues. Obviously, by the look on his face, he knew actually what Ora should do, but he also didn't look like he was going to tell her.

"Baking lessons?" Ora tried, looking sceptically at Thorin as he slowly shook his head, egging her to guess again. "A cookery book?"

Thorin's lip twitched, and Ora knew that was his way of smiling, and she grinned. "You think I should get her a cookery book?"

Thorin shook his head again, "No, I think you should make a collection of all your best recipes, ones you have tried and tested and ones you want her to try and test herself."

Ora immediately thought that was actually a rather sweet thing to do, and she knew right then that she'd put as much though into it as she possibly could. For the princess who over the past few weeks had become quite a good friend of hers.

"So, you are coming then?"

Thorin's deep rumble snapped Ora from her thoughts as she mentally flicked through her internal memory log of her recipes.

"Pardon?"

"Are you coming? To the dinner?"

"Yes, well… Yes, I am. But you can't leave me on my own." Ora replied, jabbing her finger at him.

Thorin's lips twitch again, "So you are prepared to become public on our courting?"

Ora hesitated, "Public?" She bit her lip, and Thorin's gaze flickered there for a moment.

Even now as Thorin's Consort most of the Mountain didn't know that was who she _was_. Ora wouldn't trail around after Thorin like those haughty Noble Dwarrowdams, no, Ora would usually meet him places, or see him in his study or the King's Hall, which wouldn't raise suspicion to what exactly was going on. Well, not that much, anyway. A few rumours were seeded, but the way Thorin had spoken to her those weeks ago in the Dining Hall was pulled from its grave and remembered, quickly stomping the sprouting rumours out.

"Aye, there will be many Noble's, court goers and Lords at this dinner, if we are seen as a couple, word will spread because word will spread."

Ora looked uneasy, "Word will spread… where?"

"Throughout Middle-Earth, undoubtedly."

Ora stared at Thorin like he'd grown a second head.

Of course, Ora was acutely aware Thorin was _King, _but in recent weeks she hadn't really thought much about it, especially not the effect it may have on all of the Dwarven nations in Middle-Earth if the King of Erebor was to confess he was courting. Ora had been so caught up in worrying about Erebor alone… She'd somehow forget **everywhere else**.

Not only would the whole of Erebor know who she was, but also every other Dwarf on Middle-Earth, not to mention the Elves and Men and the like who will hear of her too. How could she have forgotten that? Or rather, ignored it?

"That's an… alarming thought." Ora replied slowly.

Thorin gave Ora's knee a light squeeze that made her jolt and nearly giggle.

He offered her a very small smile, "It is up to you. I understand it is daunting, your name will never be forgotten, though."

"That is what I fear." Ora muttered, and she heard Thorin chuckle faintly. She shot him a glare.

"You have nothing to worry about, miz kidhuz."

"Of course I do, what if I make a fool of myself?"

"I am sure you won't."

At that, Ora gave Thorin a 'you really think I won't mess up?' sort of look, but this only made Thorin smile a little again.

"My sister and I will be by your side, and Fili and Kili will be there, and they are usually causing a distraction, so if you were to slip up, I am sure it will go unnoticed in comparison to them."

Ora laughed at that, "You're really think they'll slip up too?" She jested. She loved the brothers dearly, but they weren't half little terrors in their own right. Well, especially Kili, because he didn't seem to care what people thought of him. Fili, on the other hand, pretended to be the sensible one, but you could see by the twinkle of mischief in his eyes that he was as playful as his brother.

Thorin's small smile widened a touch, and when he spoke a light chuckle came through, "I am sure of it."

Ora smiled at Thorin then, slipped off his desk and came to stand around the back of chair. She slipped her arms over his shoulders gently and bent a little to hug him from behind.

"Thank you." She whispered into his hair, pressing a few stray kisses there before Thorin turned his head to properly catch her lips.

"Tomorrow," Thorin spoke lowly through Ora planting kisses on him, "Lunch?" Kiss. "My dining hall?"

Ora nodded against his lips, her mind set on other things beyond conversation and lunches.

.

"That's _cute_, what is it?" Giora leant over Ora as she sat on her bedroom floor, all around her was littered with papers (some written on, some still blank), decorations, ribbons, buttons and pretty little coloured embellishments. In the middle of this chaos, Ora was busy making a pretty cover for the recipe book she was going to give to Dis. She didn't want it to look childish, of course, but heartfelt for her new friend. She wanted it to be special and nice looking.

"It's not _cute_, it's a masterpiece." Ora replied, batting Giora's hand away when he began to tangle up some of the ribbons. He kicked a few piles of decorations aside to come and sit in front of his little sister, before picking up a plain piece of paper and absently folding it up.

"What's it for? What is it?" He asked again.

"It's a cover for the recipe book I'm making. Do you think it's all right?" It wasn't yet finished, and the design was simplistic, but so far the brown, leather bound she had brought from the market had a white silk rectangle stuck on the front, lined with small silver circles. Within that, was a royal blue rectangle, a little smaller, and embroidered with gold italics (that took Ora hours and many finger casualties) 'Dis' Recipe Book.' She made sure to stick her thumb over where it said 'Dis'' though, she didn't want Giora asking questions.

She'd asked Anar to embroider her a cake onto some white fabric, which she planned to cut out and sow onto another box of white with silver circles and the same royal blue fabric.

Once the book was ready to be put together, Ora planned to use a twist of white and royal blue ribbon to bind it.

All in all, she was quite proud of it.

Giora bobbed him head, "It's all right, if you're into that sort of thing."

Ora grinned at him, "Coming from you that's a compliment."

Giora then pulled a face and made Ora laugh. As she did so, she shot a look towards the clock her dressing table. It was nearly twelve, and she was supposed to be having dinner with Thorin in fifteen minutes.

"Oh, bother, I'm going to be late." She muttered, quickly grabbing the book and a few of the decorations in a hurry to put it all away.

"Late for what?" Giora asked, watching his sister stand and head towards her dresser. Ora pulled the book in one of the drawers, and everything else on the side. She was going to use it all again later, so there was no point putting it all away.

"I've got a lunch."

"With who?"

"None of your business." Ora replied, grabbing and pinching his nose as she walked past him to make another trip to her mess on the floor.

Giora pulled himself up from the floor and brushed himself down before turning towards Ora who was back busy tidying at her dressing table with her back to him. When she turned, she found a stone faced Giora, with his thick arms crossed over his chest. She raised her brow at him.

"You're hiding something." He squinted at her, and Ora swallowed. She couldn't _lie_ to her own flesh and blood, but she didn't have to tell the _truth_ (which she was doing), she was avoiding the topic however possible.

She played it cool and rolled her eyes. Telling herself that she wasn't hiding anything, she simply just wasn't necessarily telling him _everything_. If he were to ask, she would tell him straight, so technically, she wasn't hiding anything.

"No, Giora, don't be silly." She headed towards her bedroom door. "I will see you later."

She heard Giora stomp along behind her as she made her way towards the winding stairs that led down towards the main room and kitchen. She heard Giora rumble, but he went into his own bedroom instead of down the stairs with her.

.

Ora was just passing the King's Hall on her way to the royal wing when she heard someone practically scream her name. She shot around in surprise and alarm, eyes wide with panic.

"Ava?" She called, brows furrowing as her closest friend quite literally sprinted towards her with a look on her face that made Ora's blood run cold. Instantly, she knew what this was about, and alarm bells went off in her head. Ora stepped forward, arms out and bracing herself to catch Ava as the female didn't look as though she would stop.

She didn't, and practically fell into Ora.

"Uli!" Ava gasped, eyes bulging and chest heaving, "Not," Gasp, "Good."

Ora froze. She knew she had to go to her friend, but she couldn't just leave on the king… Wait, what was she doing? Why did she even have to think about this? Her friend needed her.

"Where is she?" Ora demanded.

"In," Gasp, "Room."

Ora nodded, grabbing Ava forcefully by the arm and dragging her back towards the main stairs.

"Wait one moment," Ora said, spying two of the king's guards hovering around one of the archways adjacent to the steps. Ava simply nodded, taking the opportunity to lean against the nearest wall and recuperate.

"Excuse me," Ora called, nearly jogging towards the two Dwarves. Immediately they turned, and Ora recognised them to be friends of Giora's.

"Ah, Giora's little sister," Well, apparently they recognised her too. The rust coloured haired one smiled warmly at her, "How can we be of service?"

"I need a favour. You cannot disclose this to anyone other than the recipient, do you hear? I am supposed to be having lunch with the King, but an emergency has arisen." She quickly shot a glance over to Ava, who was looking sick with worry now. "Please, could you tell him this? And that I am terribly sorry, and I will find him later."

The two guards exchanged a look, before the second one, with black hair and a plaited beard nodded. "Aye, lass, we can do that."

"Thank you!" Ora sighed with relief, "Thank you so much." She barely finished her thanks before she was rushing back towards Ava and grabbing the Dwarrowdam by the forearm again.

Ora and Ava practically ran the entire way back to Uli's quarters, which was painfully far away, and up far too many flights of stairs. But that didn't matter, Ora was sure that between them they'd nearly ran over half the Mountains occupants on their travels.

But, once Ora finally made it to Uli, despite the fact she was shockingly out of breath, she stopped breathing for a good eight seconds.

Uli was laying in her bed, heaving into a metal bucket and when she drew her head back, her face was pale and her eyes were sunken in. She was shaking too, and her eyes looked Ora's way but they weren't entirely seeing.

"Mahal, Uli," Ora ran to her friends side, not evening carrying when she pulled the sweat and bile covered strands of red hair away from her forehead. "What's the matter?"

Uli shook her head, her bottom lip trembling and her eyes growing dewy.

"I don't know." She barely whispered, shifting herself to lay a hand on the growing bump on her stomach. "But I can't feel the babe anymore."

Ora's forgot to breath, and she too raised her hand and gently placed it on Uli's stomach, before shooting a look towards Ava who hovered by the closed door.

"You need to see a doctor."

Immediately Uli's eyes popped and she frantically shook her head, before gagging once more and pulling the bucket towards her. She heaved a few times, her brow growing moist, but nothing came out.

"I cannot." She croaked in a whisper.

"You have to." Ora stated clearly and calmly. "Your child's life could very well be in danger."

Uli turned her head towards Ava, and Ora took a moment to look at just how ill her friend looked. She looked like she had flu, but worse. Uli coughed and heaved before turning back to Ora.

"I cannot risk my child's life," She took a shallow, shaky breath, "Whatever the cost."

Ora swallowed, "I must tell Thorin."

For a moment, Uli looked like she wanted to cry, but she swallowed back the urge, her large eyes searching Ora's stony face for answers.

"He will get a good doctor," Ora reached forward, trying desperately to keep her hand from shaking for her friend's sake as she brushed some more strands from her face. "If we go to the workers doctors, this will spread like it's everyone's business, you know that. A private doctor is just that, private."

"And what if he exiles me?" Uli looked broken, and right now Ora doubted if she really cared if she would be exiled or not, as long as her babe was safe.

Ora swallowed again, "You know I will never let him do that."

.

Ora knocked lightly twice on Thorin's study door, when she got no answer, she bit her tongue and swallowed her nerves. She opened the door a tad and peaked her head around.

"Thorin?" She asked the room, before spying the king at his desk writing something. She opened her mouth to say more, but was cut off by the bitter look he shot her when he snapped his head up and glared.

"Did you say you could come in?" He snapped, and Ora saw him squeeze the quill he was holding.

Uh-oh, bad mood. Well, she probably should have guessed that. Usually, she'd leave him to his own devices whenever he was in a mood like this, or if it wasn't her fault that he was in this mood she'd try and cheer him up. But, knowing full well this _was_ her fault and the option to just run away and hide was not acceptable with her sheet white friend heaving her innards out several floors above, she knew she just had to bite the wound and suck the poison out.

She swallowed, hard.

"Thorin," She stepped into the room and quietly shut the door behind her, doing her best to ignore his icy gaze. Honestly, if looks could kill… "I have a confession."

She flinched when Thorin stood so abruptly it startled her, his heavy chair grating along the floor violently.

"A confession?"

Double uh-oh, he was using _that_ tone. The tone that make Ora want to run away. It was deep, grating, rumbling and, well, scary.

"Yes." She replied, trying to be confident. This was for Uli, she reminded herself, and sucked in a breath.

"Like what?"

"First off, I want to apologise for cancelling our—"

Thorin cut her off with his sharp tongue, "Yes, I heard, tell me; what is so important that you had to let your king down?"

Ora bit her lip, and she caught Thorin drop his gaze there for a nanosecond. Okay, maybe all is not lost then after all.

"That is what I wanted to talk to you about."

Thorin moved towards Ora, his intimidating stance filling the room and making Ora's stomach curdle.

"Go on." He loomed down on her, eyes piercing her very soul.

Ora tried her hardest to wear her emotions in her eyes, in an attempt to sooth him, to show Thorin that she meant nothing bad. Of course, this didn't work.

"My friend is very sick."

Thorin's hard expression didn't even falter, instead, he folded his arms over his chest. Making himself look even bigger.

Ora swallowed before taking his silence as a sign for her to continue, "A-and we are afraid," She dropped her gaze to Thorin's thick boots, "She may lose her child."

If it was possible, Thorin got even stiffer. "Lose her child?" He repeated, sounding mildly confused.

Ora squeezed her eyes shut before blinking them open again, still, she did not look at her king. "Aye… She… My friend, Uli is with child."

"Uli? I did not realise she was married."

Ora straighten up, looked Thorin dead in the eye and said, "She's not."

Nothing happened on Thorin's face for a long time, so long in fact, Ora's gaze began to drift around the room.

Then finally, he barked, "What?"

Ora jumped, swinging her attention back to him. "She's not married. And I fear she is gravely ill. She needs assistance soon or I fear we will not only lose the babe but herself as well. She doesn't look like she's eaten in days, she is constantly sick, sweating and shivering. She is as pale as flour. She shakes and she struggles to breathe."

"She is with child out of wedlock." Thorin growled.

"I know that. She knows that, and—"

"How long have you known?"

Ora stared at Thorin. She felt like she was going to be sick, too.

When she didn't respond, Thorin leaned down until they were nearly nose to nose, and then he said in a dangerously low tone that struck Ora right to the bone, "How long have you kept this from me?"

"I haven't kept this from you, Thorin." Ora replied in a whisper. She didn't know where her voice had gone. "But she is one of my closest friends," She could feel her eyes growing glassy, but she willed herself not to cry, "And I fear I may lose her if she does not get a doctors help immediately."

"And what? You expect me to help? To condone this?"

Ora hesitated, "Yes."

Thorin growled loudly, before turning away and striding towards the fire. He leant over it, both hands on the mantelpiece.

"Please… Thorin…" Whilst his back was to her, she pressed her fingers into her eyes and wiped away the wetness there. "I will be forever in your debt if you do this for me."

"What do you want me to do?" He snarled, not showing any indication to what he was thinking.

Ora took a deep breath, "She accepts you may exile her, but I am asking you as your consort, your _friend_, to spare her long enough so she might be treated by a doctor."

"And if I don't?" Thorin looked over his shoulder at her.

Ora shook her head, but held his gaze, "If you let my friend die? If you let her lose her babe? I will never set foot inside Erebor again." And she meant it.

Thorin took a deep breath and turned away again, hanging his head for a moment before reaching up with one hand and running it through his hair.

"I am King, Ora… Do you not realise what you are asking of me?"

Ora nodded, even though his back was to her. "I know full well. But I do not agree that we as a kingdom- a _nation_ – we should cast our people aside when they are most vulnerable. No matter what, you should not let an innocent Dwarf just _die_."

"We are hardy. I am sure she is merely suffering from a cold."

Ora stared at him when he said that, and he glanced over his shoulder when he didn't hear a reply after a minute or two to find Ora gaping at him, eyes glassy all over again with a look of sheer horror on her face.

"Do you think I would be asking this of you if it was merely a _cold_?" She hissed, eyes flashing.

Thorin's jaw clenched and flexed. "I am King, Ora." He repeated, but more sternly this time, before pushing himself off the mantelpiece and striding right past her. He didn't even look at her as he moved to the door and left through it.

Ora stared after him. For some reason, it felt as though her heart was broken and she couldn't reframe any longer from letting a single tear slip down her cheek.

Then another, and then another.

She only lingered in the study for about ten minutes, mainly to compose herself but also in the hopes that Thorin would return with a changed mind. But, of course, that was a longshot.

Ora left the study, her head bowed and her feet moving briskly.

What was she going to do? Could she take Uli to Dale? Even if it was not to the babes' father but surely there would be a doctor there that would help? When she was travelling, it was not unheard of for the people from the race of men to bear a child out of wedlock. Would there be somewhere suitable she could stay, too?

Ora was grabbed from her thoughts, quite literally by a strong hand grasping her shoulder. Immediately Ora swung around, staring with wide eyes up at Lady Dis who looked alarmingly concerned.

"Where is she?" She asked, a little breathless.

If the situation was different, Ora would have grinned.

The King may not be able to do anything, but he could send his maternal, '_takes-nothing-from-no-one_' sister.

.

.

.

_Okaaaaay_

_(:_

_SO_

_I've been reading your comments, and a few of you have requested a chapter from Thorin's POV? Would that be something the rest of you would be interested in?_

_LET ME KNOW_

_Thank you so much to all those who have reviewed! I love seeing your comments, so please keep them up!_

_Thank you!_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_


	27. Chapter 26

Maybe Ora had been too quick to judge Thorin. As it turned out, he had gone straight to his sister- a mother herself, and a woman with a heart so gold she was fight off a hundred Goblins with her own two hands just to protect one of her own who was in trouble. So, Thorin had known that if he'd told his sister about poor Uli, she wouldn't hesitate to help her, even if it meant battling with her own morals and maybe even her people.

Ora owed Thorin. Big time.

"You there." Dis exclaimed, immediately Ava's head snapped towards Dis. Ora and the princess had only just entered Uli's chambers, and within moments Dis was already barking orders at her friends, completely skipping the formalities and introductions and getting right into business. "Go to the healer's quarters and ask for Ingert." She didn't elaborate, so when Ava hesitated, looking confused, Dis barked, "Go! Now!" And Ava flew away out the door.

Dis went to Uli's side, and Ora went to the other. "Who is Ingert?"

"Get me a damp cloth, Ora. And he was the healer who cared for me when I was carrying Fili and Kili, I trust him with my life. He's the best healer there is." Dis didn't look up when she spoke, and once she finished Ora nodded and went to get what she asked for.

When she returned, she handed Dis the cloth and immediately Dis went to work dabbing it on Uli's forehead and temples gently. Uli didn't protest, by the looks of it, she was beyond arguments and questions.

"I take it Thorin agreed then?" Ora could see Uli tried to smile, but her lips barely twitched when she spoke. Her words were a little slurred, and it was painfully obvious how much she was struggling to string a sentence together. Her eyes get drooping out of focus, and her hands were shaking.

Ora offered her a small smile, and glanced over to Dis who was watching Uli intensely. "Sort of."

When Ava returned with Ingert, a small, old Dwarf with fading red hair and a beard so long he had to strap it into his belt to keep it out of the way, he took one look at Uli and his face visibly paled.

"Oh my..." Ora heard him mumble before he shuffled quickly to Dis' side, not even noticing Ora was there watching him. He put the back of his hand to Uli's forehead and Ora watched him swallow hard. "Uli, dear, can you hear me?"

Uli mumbled something, and Ora stared with wide eyes as her friends eyes crossed for a moment, before she responded a sloppy, "Yes." She then gagged, as if trying to heave but not quite having it in her to do so fully.

"What's wrong with her." Ora demanded, but she was ignored.

Ingert pressed a hand to Uli's stomach gently, expression still grave. He exchanged a look with Dis, who visibly gulped.

Ingert then turned to Ora, and then looked over to Ava. "May I have a word with you two outside?"

Both females nodded numbly, and silently followed the healer out into the hall.

He didn't waste time in talking, but he made sure the door was properly shut behind him before facing Ora and Uli.

"When did you first notice something was wrong?" He asked, looking between them for answers.

Ora turned to Ava, who knew, and who was looking as white as a sheet.

"W-Well I'm not sure r-really. I found her only this morning. She was in the bathroom," She took a deep breath and Ora could see her eyes growing dewy, "W-we were supposed to be going to the market." She swallowed hard. "I-I thought she'd just eaten some off milk, or meat, or something. But then she started being sick too, she couldn't walk straight, she was shivering and sweating at the same time. She was delirious, too, she couldn't talk right..." She then stared at Ora, "I didn't know. Honestly, I didn't..." She trailed off, the first tear slipping down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away.

Ora didn't say anything, but quickly took Ava's hand in hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She couldn't talk, she knew her own eyes were glassy and her throat was stinging.

"What's wrong with her?" Ava asked Ingert, voice breaking.

Ingert took a deep breath, swallowed, and then said solemnly, "I believe... It is blood poisoning."

Ora heard Ava strangle on her breath.

"Will she be all right?" Was all Ora said, voice quiet.

Ingert looked at her with thin lips and sad eyes. "It is in quite the advanced stages..." Ava let out a loud sob, and Ora squeezed her hand again, "I cannot say, it is a waiting game for now."

"Is she going to die?" Ava choked out, more and more tears sliding down her cheeks.

Ingert didn't reply, but the look on his face spoke a thousand words.

The odds were not good.

.

Ora was sat on the cold stone floor, her back up against the solid tomb of her grandfather, just content in the sound of silence.

Uli was asleep. Ingert had given her something that would apparently sooth her, and hopefully help with the healing - if possible. Ava had cried and wailed all the way back to her chambers, where Ora had stayed with her all the way up until she'd cried herself to sleep. Ora then went for a walk, and her legs had taken her down into the belly of the Mountain, and that is where she sat. In silence. There were no tears to let fall. She was beyond crying, beyond grief, and beyond heartbreak.

Dis had offered her companionship, but Ora had politely refused, and the princess and thankfully understood without many words needed to be exchanged. She had simply kissed Ora's temple and wished her goodnight before taking her own leave.

She was in total, and utter shook that one of her closest friends - a _sister_ - may be taken away from her. Soon.

Dwarves were strong, hardly, and durable, so when one fell sick, there was definitely something wrong. If Uli wasn't pregnant and this was to happen, she would probably be able to shake it off like a hard flu, but she was with child, and she was weaker.

Ora heard the sound of heavy footsteps, but she took no noticed and hoped whoever it was wouldn't see her, and if they were to that they would just walk on and leave her alone. But when she _felt_ who it was, she looked up.

She didn't greet Thorin when she found those crystal eyes looking softly down at her, but she wasn't unhappy that he was there.

"Dis told me." He said in his usual deep tone, and slowly he lowered himself down onto the floor next to Ora (much to her surprise, never would she expect Thorin to sit on the floor.) She didn't complain that he was there though, because as soon as he was seated she grabbed his arm, draped it around herself and crawled into him, burring her face into the furs on his coat and finally letting out a loud (muffled) scream.

Immediately, Thorin's arms locked around her, pulling her tighter into him as she continued to scream and wail. He drew comforting circles on her lower back, and rested his head lightly on hers, tucking her safely under and around him.

He didn't tell her he was sorry to hear what was going on, nor did he tell her everything would be all right, because odds were they wouldn't be, and Ora didn't want to be blatantly lied to.

"I am sorry for what I said." He murmured just as Ora paused for breath.

She hesitated for a moment, before turning her head just enough so she could speak without her words being lost in the furs of his coat. "What?" She hiccupped.

"In my study. I am sorry."

Ora swallowed and wiped her eyes before sitting up. She reached up and gently cupped Thorin's face, holding him in place so he had no other choice but to look at her. His face was blank, but his eyes were filled with concern and sorrow.

"You can never be sorry. Not to me. I owe you everything now, Thorin. Thank you." Her eyes searched his face, and in response Thorin slowly took Ora's hands in his.

"No, I owe you, Ora. Without you, I would never have been able to battle this sickness. I am forever in your debt. I should never have hesitated to question you."

Ora sniffed a few times, blinking at the new tears that escaped her eyes. She didn't think she'd been helping Thorin all that much, but in reality she was just giving him the strength to continue, even though she was sure she physically and emotionally drained him most of the time.

Her bottom lip began to quiver, and Thorin drew her into him once again, letting her head rest on his chest with one hand still working at her lower back. The other carefully and lightly held her to him around her neck affectionately.

.

Ora blinked her eyes open, furrowed her brow and took in her surroundings.

This wasn't her room. When did she fall asleep?

She sat up, smiling when a thick wait slipped off her.

Thorin's coat. Again.

She heaved herself out of bed, pulling on the warm coat as she did so. It was far, far too big for her, just about scraping the floor as she waddled towards the thick wooden door. The room gave the word lavish a whole new meaning, with silk cushions, sheets and fur throws covering the huge bed. The floor was of the usual stone, but threaded with laces of gold's, coppers and silvers. The walls were lined with tapestries, and the Mountain walls between them were detailed with embeddings of gems and jewels of various shapes and sizes. The bed was raised, and a thick, soft rug ran from under it all the way to the plush scarlet lounger that sat facing a ridiculously large fire place.

She knew exactly where she was, and when she opened the door and stepped out onto the gallery looking over the main room of the King's quarters, her suspicions were confirmed.

"Erm, good morning." She called when she spied Thorin sitting upon one of the large armchairs near the burning fire. He was reading a thick, heavier book, but instantly looked up when he heard her voice.

"Good... Afternoon." He smiled softly up at her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I-"

"I understand." Thorin interrupted her, standing up and placing the book down on the side table next to him. "You had a rough day yesterday. Are you hungry?"

Ora's stomach curdled when the memories of yesterday came flooding back to her all at once, but, if it was indeed afternoon now her stomach rumbled loudly to remind her that she hadn't eaten since breakfast the previous day. She'd been so caught up in the previous day's challenges that food had completely slipped her mind. Very uncharacteristic of her.

"Yes, please. I'm starving."

Thorin nodded at her, and headed towards one of the archways below her, under the gallery and immediately Ora followed after him, pulling his coat tighter around herself quickly flying down the steps, trying not to slip in her bare socks.

When Ora reached the archway she spotted Thorin speaking with one of the guards, who nodded and then moved away again.

"And there was me thinking you'd cook me something." Ora attempted to banter, but her smile didn't quite make it.

Luckily Thorin's did and he stepped towards her. "Not quite."

Ora fell into his body, wrapping her arms tightly around him. She wanted to cry all over again, mostly because of Uli, but also partially because Thorin was being so thoughtful and sweet towards her. She was so grateful that she had him.

"I don't know what I'd do without you." She mumbled into his coat, but she knew he'd heard her. His arms around her tightened at her words, and he kissed the top of her head. "I need to see Uli." She said after a few moments, pushing away from Thorin and staring up at his blank expression.

He nodded, "I understand, but first you must eat." He reached up and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. It was then Ora realised she must look a right mess; still dressed in yesterday garments without a wash or even a moment to straighten up her hair. But the way Thorin was looking at her momentarily made her forget everything; he looked at her as if she was the most beautiful gift he'd ever seen. "Your friend is still asleep, and I have arranged a guard to keep watch on her, and as soon as she wakes to come straight here. I also told one of the maids to collect another dress for you this morning, it's upstairs, so you can prepare yourself here, if you wish, and so if Uli is to wake, you will be here to be the first to receive the message."

Ora's bottom lip began to quiver all over again, and she quickly wiped her eyes before a tear could escape. "Thank you." Her voice shook, "Thank you so much, that is so thoughtful." She fell into Thorin all over again, holding him so tightly he might have popped if it wasn't for his heavy armour. She heard him restrain a grunt as she knocked into him, but he didn't push her away.

"Thorin...?" Ora asked after a minute or so of just silence, just letting Thorin hold her close. In the state she was in it was the closest she would get to comfort. She waited for him to hum an acknowledgement before she continued, "What if... What if Uli dies?" Her voice was so small, she would be surprised if Thorin actually heard her at all, "What if the baby dies? Before it has even seen the world."

Thorin raised one hand and used it to carefully stroke her hair. "You have dealt with death before, Ora..." He replied.

She knew he wasn't trying to pour salt in the wounds, but simply remind her that she was dealt with the loss of a loved one already. But, she'd never really dealt with it, and the pain was always there. She didn't think she'd be able to bare another hole in her heart.

Ora then looked up at Thorin, staring right into his eyes. For a few moments she was swept away by the cool pools of his blue eyes, and then she remembered. Thorin had suffered far, far worse than her. He had seen things that she couldn't even begin to imagine, lived times that her worst nightmares wouldn't even be able to re-enact. So, just like that, she reminded herself that if she gets hurt then so what? This wasn't about her, it was about Uli and her babe, and she shouldn't be worrying about her own heartbreaking. That was selfish. She should be worrying about Uli, and not herself.

She pushed away from Thorin when she heard someone clear their throat behind her, and Ora turned back to the archway to see one of the maids there, looking awkward and embarrassed about what she'd just interrupted. Ora offered her a small, fake, comforting smile, and it turned almost genuine when she felt Thorin place his hand on the small of her back gently.

"Yes?" He grumbled, prompting the young female as apparently she'd forgotten what she was supposed to be doing.

She jumped, startled, then blinked, "I-I've set your lunch up on the table. Through here, if you please?"

Thorin pushed Ora lightly to get her moving, and she followed the maid through to the main room. She was a little surprised at first to find that a small, round table had been set up by the large window, but it wasn't an unpleasant one. She didn't really like eating in the large dining room, it was so formal and it made her feel so awkward and on edge.

The maid gestured towards the table and lowered her head to them before scurrying out of the room before Ora could say 'thank you'.

Ora turned back around from watching the maid more or less flea to find Thorin holding her chair out for her. She very nearly blushed, but instead mumbled a 'thank you' before seating, eyes already on the array of cold meats, cheeses and bread on the table in front of them. She immediately dug in, but the nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her that it wasn't right that she was tucking into delicious food when her best friend was laying unconscious on what could potentially be her death bed, was putting her off.

"How did you sleep?" Thorin's deep voice rumbled through the silence, and Ora was thankfully pulled from her grave thoughts.

Ora blinked at him, "Surprisingly well, I don't think I've slept that heavily in months. I was like a log."

Thorin smiled at her at that. "In months?"

Ora paused her chewing, squinting at him. She swallowed before replying, "Yes," She scrutinized his expression, "Why?"

Thorin shrugged, letting his eyes drop to his coat that engulfed her for a moment, "No reason. By the way, if you keep stealing my coats I will run out, and then what will you sleep in?"

Ora pulled a face at him that made him smile a little, eyes sparkling just the same way Dis' did when she was up to something. "I did not steal it, you gave it to me."

"Can I have it back?"

"No," Ora replied instantly, "It's mine now."

"And my other coat?"

"That's mine too." She smiled a little at him around a piece of bread, and his own smile broadened. That was what he'd been trying to do, cheer her up, albeit only a little.

"You're like a Dwarfling."

She scoffed, "You must be rubbing off on me then."

With that, Thorin threw his head back and laughed, genuinely and heartily. Ora couldn't help but grin at him, it felt like such an achievement when she made him laugh like that.

.

Uli had woken up just as Ora had been changing, and of course, she'd pretty much sprinted across the Mountain to go and see her friend, who was barely conscious.

Ora sat by her side talking absolute nonsense for hours, which a little while in Ava came to join them, but she didn't say very much. She just sat quietly, her eyes large, glassy and red, and her bottom lip shaking every so often.

But, just before dinner time, Ingert came back again, gave Uli a check over before feeding her some more of that rather potent concoction that lets her fall peacefully unconscious. Soon after that Ava left, but Ora stay right up until the healer had finished with Uli and then left with him.

"How is she?" She asked immediately after Ingert had closed Uli's chamber door.

Ingert sighed, "She is not worse, which is always a good sign." He offered a comforting smile and Ora nodded weakly. "You should get yourself something to eat, dear, you're looking peaky yourself." And with that, he dipped his head in respect, turned and wandered off.

Ora stared after him, frowning a little as she raised her hand to her cheek. "Peaky?" She muttered, giving the skin under her fingers a quick squeeze.

Despite what the healer had told her, she was far from hungry, and wandered around Erebor for a while before finding that her legs had led her to the entrance to the Royal Wing. Still not thinking much of it, she shrugged, and continued walking, slowly making her way towards Thorin's quarters.

Her spirits were surprisingly a little lighter, and although she knew she shouldn't get her hopes up, hearing that Uli wasn't worse had done just that. There was still hope, and where there was hope, there would be Ora.

Ora soon reached Thorin's quarters, and knocked a little tune on the door before waiting on the balls of her feet for a reply. But, she immediately furrowed her brow in concern when Balin was the one to open the chamber door, but it was not his presence exactly that alarmed her, it was the look on his face.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Ora had already pushed right past him.

"Where is he?" She asked, giving the main room a quick scope and not finding Thorin anywhere to be seen. Her veins filled with dread, her heart rate quickened, and she felt the swelling of a migraine at the front of her head. Three things that she was unfortunately becoming very accustomed to feeling over the past few days.

Balin shut the door with a sigh, knowing full well that there was no way be would be able to persuaded Ora to leave.

"Upstairs, in his chamber, lass." He barely finished his sentence before Ora was flying up the stair case to Thorin's room. Not that she knew which one it was, and she tried two different doors before barging into the one that Thorin was in.

He obviously spotted her before she spotted him, and her eyes only found him when he exclaimed a rather surprised, "Ora?"

He was standing before the fire place, wearing only a thin tunic that was unlaced at the neck, exposing some of his chest, and his trousers. He was turned to her, feet bare and brow furrowed in much the same ways Ora's was: in confusion.

"What's going on?" She asked him, barely noticing his lack of clothes and marching right up to him and cupping his face in her hands so she could pull his face closer to hers, looking at him closely.

Thorin took her hands from his face, letting her soft skin glide over this harsh bristles of his beard before tucking them under his hands and bringing them to his lips. He kissed each one, before holding them to his chest.

"Nothing." He told her softly, "I am fine now."

Ora's shoulders slumped, and she exhaled loudly a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding, "Thorin…" She breathed in relief.

Thorin's eyes flickered over her shoulder to where Balin was hovering by the open door, "Would you give us a moment?" He asked him, and Balin nodded, retreating from the room and shutting the door as he went.

"Tell me what's wrong." Ora demanded softly, not letting her eyes stray from Thorin's. "Is it the sickness?"

"No."

Ora very nearly collapsed with relief, "Well, thank Mahal! I don't think I could deal with another ill person!" Bad joke.

Thorin's lips twitched, "How is she?"

Ora's enthusiasm to be peppy died like a swatted fly, "She is not worse."

"Well, that is good, in a way."

Ora nodded, frowning a little as she watched Thorin's gaze drop from hers. "What is it? Why did Balin look like someone had died when he answered the door?"

A flicker of a smile flitted across his face, but it quickly died.

"We… Heard some rather distressing news earlier today." He replied after a few moments hesitation.

Ora frowned, "Like what? Thorin… Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Thorin shook his head, "It is nothing that will affect you, hopefully anyway, there is just some bad relationships between some of the other Dwarven Kingdoms, and we fear that soon I will have to make a decision to where we should side if war was to break out."

Ora's eyebrows shot into her hairline, "Wars? Against our own?" To say she was surprised was an understatement, of course, not all Dwarves got alone, but as a reclusive race they all had to be civil and stick together, simply for strength in numbers. It was pretty unheard of for Dwarves to rage war against one another. Petty battles and fights for riches or land, of course, but a _war_?

Thorin nodded solemnly, "Aye, and I assume it was be the prime topic of conversation at Dis' meal this week."

Ora scoffed, "How festive."

Thorin snorted a chuckle, "Aye, welcome to politics."

Ora nearly laughed, but stopped and ran her fingers through her hair instead, "I presume you will be siding with Dain, no matter what the turn out?"

Thorin was silent for a moment, "I would hope so. As long as Dain chooses the right side."

Ora shook her head, "Mahal preserve us." After a few long moments, she looked up at Thorin and caught him staring into the fire once more, his handsome face illuminated by flames. Without thinking, she reached up and let her fingers slide through his black mane of hair. Thorin didn't stop her, but he did watch her intensely when her finger wrapped around a lock that fell behind his right ear. She bit her lip, eyeing it.

"C-Can I?" She murmured.

Thorin's expression remained blank, but in response he reached up behind her, and carefully unclipped one of the delicate silver clasps that held a lock of hair back from her face. The tress fell, but Thorin didn't hesitate to tuck it back behind her ear before handing Ora her clip.

Ora swallowed hard, and gently reached up with her second hand to make light work of a small braid, and she then fastened it with clasp. The new braid fell into place amongst Thorin's mass of hair, just behind his ear in a subtly noticeable spot.

"Turn around." He murmured, and Ora obeyed, feeling a little nervous for some reason when she felt Thorin pull softly at the relatively simple bun at the back of her head. Her hair fell, and she leaned into Thorin when he began to run his fingers through the soft threads. It felt amazing.

"Your hair is the colour of pure gold." She heard him murmur as he pulled gently on a strand of hair that sat just behind her own ear. Ora simiply smiled to herself, and savoured the feel of Thorin braid her own hair and put one of his clasps at the end.

When he was finished, she felt his hands lightly slip to her shoulders. He stepped closer to her, so her back was to his front, and he lightly kissed the top of her head as she leaned into him.

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_erm, so i kinda lost track of my dates... but i figured it would be around the 5 month mark that Thorin and Ora have known each other, mainly because it was the first snow of winter that they met, and i assumed in the north the winters would be much longer, and the other seasons mild rather than warm... I want durins day to hurry up! you know when you have a plot line set for the future, but you have no idea how to get there? I'm having that issue._

_Erm, I've had mixed responses on the whole Thorin POV, so for NOW I won't be doing one, but in a few chapters time I will be having a point when Thorin's POV is mixed in with Ora's because *cough cough*_

_BUT_

_I hate this chapter. Erm, I think it's boring, so I'm sorry about that, but the beginning of the next chapter will be a little bit fluffy hehe so I hope that's something to look forward to!_

_Thank you so much for all those who have reviewed, your comments mean the world to me, especially recently where I've been feeling really down in the dumps *cries* but that's only because I'm so stressed with work and stuff_

_Anyway, please let me know what you think of this chapter!_

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